Semper Fidelis
by Falafel Waffel
Summary: Always loyal. Nothing's come easy for Sergeant Katniss Everdeen. She's had to fight for everything, and as a result has become proud in her self-reliance, but when she's deployed to Iraq a ghost from her past reminds her it's ok to lean on someone.
1. The Arrival

**Summary: The day she turned eighteen, Katniss Everdeen signed the next eight years of her life away to the United States Marine Corps. She fought her way through basic training; even talked her way into sniper training, earning her a cushy job guarding government officials in a non-deployable battalion. This was until her country went to war in the Middle East. Much to her younger sister's dismay, she was placed into the 74th Battalion stationed in Fallujah, Iraq. Katniss soon finds that the small base is not only filled with Marines who want nothing more to see her crack, but a ghost from her past she never thought she'd see again. Present Day AU.**

**Thank you Chelzie for going back and betaing the first ten chapters of this story. You're amazing!**

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

_Part One: Honor_

Honor: Honor requires each Marine to exemplify the ultimate standard in ethical and moral conduct. Honor is many things; honor requires many things. A U.S. Marine must never lie, never cheat, never steal, but that is not enough. Much more is required. Each Marine must cling to an uncompromising code of _personal integrity_, accountable for his actions and holding others accountable for theirs. And, above all, honor mandates that a Marine never sully the reputation of his Corps.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – The Arrival**

_May 2003_

I have never been on a plane for something other than work. Yeah, that's what we'll call it - work. I huff and unbuckle myself from the uncomfortable seat. We were somewhere over Turkey at this point and would be landing in Iraq in a few hours.

Most of my battalion was either asleep or doing their own thing, leaving me no one to talk to, though this was something I was familiar with.

I hurry to the bathroom and lock the door before turning on the water. I had vomited up my lunch somewhere above the Atlantic, and my dinner somewhere over the Mediterranean Sea. As I heave into the toilet, the only thing that comes up is my own saliva and some stomach acid. The floor smells faintly of urine, an odor I had become accustomed to living on base. It was nothing bad though, just confirmation that men were absolute slobs.

I pull Prim's picture out of my pant pocket. She was smiling, her blonde hair in two braids. "You'd think a bunch of snipers would have better aim, wouldn't you?" I smirk, kissing my sister's photograph. I sigh as I remember the day I decided to go to a deployable division; the day I broke her heart.

"_No!" she shouted over and over. I had been in a non-deployable division protecting government officials for the last four years of my life. It was a cushy job; I was even on a first name basis with the President, but I knew it wouldn't last._

_The Marines trained me as a sniper, something they would always need more of in Iraq and Afghanistan. I started feeling useless at my post, anxious, until I went into my commanding officer's office and demanded to be switched to a battalion that was going overseas._

"_They have people over there that got the same training as you! Why do you have to go? Why are you leaving us?" she sobbed._

"_Prim… I have to, it's my job!" I tried to explain, but this didn't seem to sink in. "My brothers and sisters are dying over there while I sit in DC guarding a door! Innocent lives, Primrose!" I stood up and looked to my mother, somehow expecting her to agree, to understand why I knew I had to go._

_How could I ask this of her? Her husband was a POW in the Gulf War, only to be returned to us in a flag draped coffin. "I have to do this, for him," I said as I excused myself for the dinner table. They would understand some day that I wasn't running off to come back in a pine box draped in the stars and stripes, that I was fighting for them._ _Just as I always had._

I return to my seat to get some shut eye. It was easier to come by than I had originally thought and before I knew it, we were in sunny Fallujah, Iraq.

To say it was hot would be an understatement. I was clad only in a tan t-shirt and camouflage pants, but soaked with sweat the second I stepped off the plane.

"Welcome to Paradise, Sergeant!" I felt an arm around me, which I shied away from as always.

"Dammit Hawthorne, can't you behave for five minutes?" I exclaim as he grins.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen my best friend in six months and you expect me to _behave_?"

Gale Hawthorne was my brother, though not biological. He and I had grown up together in our small mountain town in upstate Pennsylvania. Our fathers were Marines together and returned to us in the same manner when I was ten and he was eleven. After their deaths, we took on the burden of feeding our families, becoming hunting partners when his mother turned up pregnant and my mother tuned out for about six months.

After I turned eighteen, Gale and I walked to the recruiter's office together and signed our lives over to the United States Marine Corps. We went through basic training together and even sniper training, though one of us passed the test for counter sniper and one of us didn't.

He was still jealous.

"How's Prim? Still hating Washington?" He shrugs off his helmet and jacket. "Don't worry, I was off about ten minutes ago, but you're late as always," he says, shoving me playfully.

"Sorry, heavy traffic over Syria," I smirk, taking my bags, one over my shoulder and two in my hands. I wouldn't be able to see my weapon. "She misses Wilkes-Barre, but she's safer there. Mom even seems to be getting her shit together, went back to get her nursing degree." Gale goes for one of my bags, but I slap his hand away.

There were two stereotypes women had to fight in places like this. If you were too friendly with the men, you were a slut. Too standoffish, you were a dyke. Honestly, I'd rather them all think I was a lesbian over easy. In fact, the only man who had actually known me like that was Gale. We had tried dating when we were teenagers, but it felt so wrong to both of us. He was now with fellow Marine Johanna Mason, though she found herself in Afghanistan and he was stuck in Iraq. Skype was their only interaction.

Gale tugs on my braid a little as I walk ahead of him towards my room. "I thought they were going to give you the G.I. Jane treatment and cut it all off," he says passively, rubbing his hand over his own almost bald head.

I smile and laugh, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "No, as long as I keep it under control, I can keep it. It also folds up so neatly under my helmet." I found the door labeled 'Staff Sergeant Katniss Everdeen' and threw it open. The room was furnished with a desk, a bed and a small wardrobe. My sheets were folded neatly on the bed. I only had a short time to ready my room for inspection. Then suddenly I remembered - that was my job now. Sure, someone who outranked me could always come in and give me a hard time, but I was now the babysitter for my battalion.

I shamelessly lift up my shirt to apply more deodorant, which, in this environment is my best friend. I heard a whistle from outside. "Watch it, Cato," Gale hisses at the blond poking his head in my room. Instead of shying away, I threw off my top and put my hands on my hips.

"See something you've never seen before, Private?" I ask, my hands on my hips, "Or do you think it's appropriate to harass your Sergeant?" A crowd had gathered to see me stand there in my cargo pants and sports bra. Two were deadly looking girls - a blond with the name "Glimmer" and a short brunette with "Clove" on her breast. Next, a lanky looking male with "Marvel" on his tag, but my breath caught in my throat when I saw the last one. "_Mellark,"_ I mouth. I move to my bag and pull out a clean t-shirt.

"One shot, one kill. So you're the new sniper," Cato was trying to push his way in my room after seeing the tattoo on my shoulder.

"_Counter_ sniper," Gale made a point of telling them. My eyes were focused on Mellark - where did I know that name?

He was about six feet tall, with ashy blonde hair that was getting just a little too long for regulation. His eyes were bright blue and boring into mine. Where did I know him from?

"Let's go," Cato finally says to his cronies, realizing he was getting nothing more from me. Glimmer, Clove and Marvel follow him without question, but Mellark's eyes linger on me before joining them.

"Ugh, PFC's, am I right?" Gale took off his jacket, his shirt stuck to him and I could smell the all too familiar aroma of sweaty man.

"Give them a bar, they take a mile…" I put the fitted sheet on my bed before going for the flat. "You should get washed up, Gale, I can handle myself from here," I say, earning a suspicious look. I flex my arm, showing the toned muscle that was covered by my olive skin. "I've got this. I'm just going to make my bed, grab something to eat, and get some sleep." I glance at the paper on my desk. "I have a meeting at command at eighteen hundred and I'm on guard duty from twenty three hundred to oh seven hundred."

"Sounds fun. You'll be with your Corporal; he'll show you the ropes. He's from Wilkes, just like us." I nod.

"What are the odds?" I ask, but Gale had already left.

I didn't have much, just my clothes and the laptop Prim made me buy before my deployment so we could Skype. Internet could be buggy in a place like this, but I had a good enough connection to e-mail Prim and let her know that I had landed safe.

I send my mother a quick message as well. They were moving to a home in Jacksonville, North Carolina, as per my contract I would be stationed there after my tour of duty in Iraq. Mom was having a hard time finding a job in Washington, but apparently found one after a few days of searching. The lease was up on the apartment in a few weeks. I couldn't believe I entrusted my flighty mother to find us a place in a city and state she has never lived in.

My stomach growls, but then I realize how absolutely disgusting I am. I was too nervous to bathe before I left the States, so I head for the bathroom with my tote containing two-in-one shampoo and conditioner, soap, and a razor. I had seven minutes to shower, but this was nothing new. In the Marines, you learn strategies to bathe faster. Two-in-one shampoo was the first step, the second was multi-tasking. Instead of standing there and winning mental arguments with people I'd likely never see again, I would wash my body while the conditioner soaked into my hair. I'd shave certain parts of me on certain days. Armpits every day, since that only took a few seconds; lower legs one day, upper legs the other. If I felt adventurous or abnormally disgusting, I'd tackle my groin on the third day. I wasn't expecting anyone important to be looking down there, so no harm in letting it go for a few days.

This time, I have a giant room with shower heads hanging from the ceiling all to myself. It was nothing fancy, so I let my mind wander to the familiar face from earlier.

"_Mellark… Mellark…" _I mouth his surname over and over, letting the water beat down on my head. Then it hit me - maybe the water beating down on my head helped, especially since it was almost as cold as that day in April.

_At my father's funeral, I was handed a folded up flag and a medal of honor. My mother sobbed and held my confused sister, who just asked for her Daddy over and over again. We walked home from the cemetery in the cold April air. The second the door shut, my mother's brain switched off. No amount of pleading would bring her out of bed. She stopped going to work long enough that they fired her._

_Prim and I were just kids, and soon enough, we were completely out of food. Out of desperation, I drug a bag of our old baby clothes to the flea market though no one was interested in well-worn baby clothes. Clumsy me, I dropped them in a puddle on the way home and left them there, feeling defeated._

_Then I smelled it - the aroma of fresh baked bread. The bakery was known to throw out its fair share of edible goodies just because they sat on the shelf for a day or two. I could feed my family for at least a night from here. Unfortunately, in my weakened state, I dropped the trash can lid. The kindly baker's witch of a wife threw the back door open, yelling something about 'Seam trash'. The poorer part of Wilkes-Barre was called "the Seam"; it was a row of decrepit homes that I had lived in my whole life. The baker's wife swung at me with a rolling pin, cracking me on the cheek once before something called her back inside. I ran to their apple tree, clutching my face, my eyes finding the baker's youngest son. He was in my grade. Peeta._

_He ran inside, not bothering to close the door. Before long, he came running out the door holding a brown paper bag which he threw to me. I looked inside – it contained rolls and bread. I mouthed a thank you, but he was already back inside. I closed the bag and took off for home._

_The bruise on my cheek and the food seemed to awaken something in my mother. Soon, she had applied for government help and was seeing a psychologist._

_I never really trusted her again._

_And I never was able to thank the boy with the bread._

"Hell-o?" an attitude filled voice asks. I look up at the tiny brunette. "You've been here for a day, too early to start having breakdowns." I recognize her as Private Clove. I wipe my eyes, not realizing I had been crying. _Wonderful._

"Sorry, just got a sad email from my baby sister. Surely you can relate to someone back home making this even harder." I shut off the water and squeezed out my hair, moving to the changing area without a word. Surely Cato would be the first she would tell; he's going to eat me alive.


	2. Guard Duty

**Chapter 2 – Guard Duty**

I was always terrible at making friends. Even now at lunch, I sit at the end of a crowded table staring at my lukewarm food as I pushed it around with my fork. Protein, vegetable, and carbohydrate all drowned in Tabasco sauce to hide the somewhat terrible flavor.

That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Gale, leave me alone," I say, brushing it off.

"Not quite, princess." I roll my eyes and brush the returned hand off my shoulder again. "You look at me when I'm talking to you, little girl."

Cato's voice was grave, but I continued eating. I wouldn't let him see me crack, especially in this room full of onlookers. "Could you go bother someone else, I'd like to get my food in me before it gets colder," I say, adding more hot sauce. I bring my fork to my face before my head is tugged back by my braid.

"Listen little lady, you think you can waltz right in here and boss _me_ around?" Cato doesn't let up. I drop my fork reaching for his hand, though he threatens to rip the hair out of my head.

"No, I _know_ I can get sent here, outrank you, and tell you what to do," I sneer, clawing at his grabby hands. I look up and see his dark eyes, lustful and hungry. I was a challenge to him; a challenge he didn't get with Clove or Glimmer, I guess.

"Private!" a threatening voice scolds not far from me, "Is there a problem here?"

"Just teaching the little girl the ropes around here," he says and releases my hair, each and every follicle burning from the torment, "Corporal."

"So that means assaulting your commanding officer? Do you want to see how well that will go for you?"

He grunts, but I refuse to look up just yet. "She wouldn't snitch on me, _sir._" Cato doesn't say anything else, just grabs my shoulders again and squeezes them before walking away. I sigh and go back to my food, hoping the gawkers will do the same and the Corporal leaves. No such luck, however, as I see the chair next to me move and become occupied. I shiver a little, trying to get rid of the heebie jeebies Cato had given me.

"Thanks," I say, before looking up into the concerned blue eyes of Peeta Mellark. "Corporal Mellark…"

He smiles faintly, "Well…you don't have to say it like that. And you should report Cato to the brass. Major Abernathy doesn't take that kind of behavior lightly."

I slouch over and finish my food. "No, that will just make me look weak. There are other ways of punishing someone." I slide the edge of my fork across the bottom of my plate, cleaning off every bit of gravy and hot sauce.

"Geez, Everdeen, you eat like you'll never see food again," he remarks. I turn to look at him, _really_ look at him, hoping the shock doesn't leave my face. Maybe he doesn't remember. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate, after…" he stutters.

"No, it was fine," I say, standing up. "I'm assuming you're on guard with me tonight, so I'll see you then." I threw out my trash and walked out of the mess hall. _I will not cry_, I tell myself over and over.

Sleep came to me easily once I drew the blinds and locked my door. I set my alarm for 1700, giving myself an hour to get in my uniform. Since women out here were few and far between, I wouldn't have a roommate. No one would question why I was sleeping the day away, or intrude on my few hours of uninterrupted slumber.

I woke up in a pool of my own drool and begrudgingly pick myself up off the thin mattress I'd be spending the next six months on. If they sent me into combat, I'd spend twelve hours at a time in a sitting position waiting for my target, the other twelve either curled up in a corner with my partner, or in a group tent sleeping on a cot or a hammock. I had never shot or killed a human before. This was something that made me nervous, but I had to remind myself that I was doing it to protect her. _To protect Prim._

I tuck my pants into my boots, lacing them up tightly and pick up my bulletproof vest. Sweet, heavy Kevlar that honestly wouldn't protect me much against a sniper's round, but a .22 would feel like a firm punch. Normally Kevlar isn't necessary for guard duty on base, but as my paper said, "Snipers in the area" meant the whole nine yards.

I sling my jacket over my shoulder after putting on my dog-tags, just in case. I still had about twenty minutes before I had to be at command, so they could tell me I would basically be spending the next six months on guard duty because they didn't think a female sniper could deliver. I sit down on my bed, feeling more alone than ever before in this desert surrounded by jarheads.

"I don't want to worry you, but I really miss you…" I tell Prim's picture. "Remember all the nights I came home from work angry because my division couldn't take me seriously?" I sigh, "This is worse than that because there's actually people's lives on the line…" I huff, tucking her picture safely back into the webbing of my helmet.

_Time to go to command…_ As I walk through the halls, it was rumored that a General was on base today, just what I wanted to deal with.

I push open the door to the very air conditioned room. "Ah, Sergeant Everdeen!" I hear someone say. Most of my battalion was seated around the table. I only knew the Major in passing, with short brown hair and a five o'clock shadow. If it wasn't for his rank, he'd be held down and shaved clean.

"Major Abernathy, sir!" I'll admit I gave a half-assed salute as I took an empty seat next to a red-headed man, Major Odair. At my presence, he shifted uneasily towards the tiny woman next to him.

"Good evening, 74th," Abernathy intones, "I'm glad you all could make it." I scan the table. Though the Major was speaking, everyone's eyes were on me. "First and foremost," he continues, "I hope you can all understand our decision to keep you out of combat for a few weeks, at least until you're better acquainted with your new Sergeant." He turns to address me. "Perhaps you'd like to introduce yourself?"

I groan a little and stand. "My name is Staff Sergeant Katniss Everdeen. I was born in the small mountain town of Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, just like Corporal Mellark. I trained at Lejeune just like many of you, and after that I decided I wanted to become a sniper." I heard a small chuckle, since women weren't trained as snipers, but continued on. "Yeah, I had to fight for that, but I passed, then passed my counter-sniper training," I heard a murmur. My eyes found Cato, who continued looking at me like I was a piece of meat. "I've spent the first few years of my contract in DC, sitting up in the rafters whenever someone was making a speech."

I sit back down, figuring I'd said enough. They didn't need to know about why I chose to come to Iraq, because to be honest, even I wasn't sure why I volunteered. I found myself in the same land where my father was captured, tortured and returned to us in a sealed casket after his prison camp was liberated.

Abernathy spoke again, "Since there seems to be some opposition to your new commanding officer, we're expecting to see you all out doing PT. Remember, it gets to be one hundred twenty here, so early mornings are the best time." The major slid a roster in my direction, "For scheduling guard duty and their room assignments to make sure they're in line," Abernathy says as he smirks at me. "You're all dismissed, except for Everdeen and Mellark."

"One second," I lean over to Peeta and ask quietly, "You could do a few hours of PT after guard duty, right?" He nods.

"Mellark and I get off guard duty at oh seven hundred. Be at the obstacle course by oh seven fifteen, ready to sweat!" I bark and they all groaned. "You're all dismissed!" Peeta took the roster from me and began writing on it as Odair and Abernathy began whispering to each other.

"As you may or may not know, this battalion was bound for Baghdad before they suffered heavy losses. Now we still intend to send you there, but not until you all know how to work together. We're not sending some dumb kids into a warzone especially when they're too busy worrying that they're officer is a woman," Abernathy begins.

"You have an impressive résumé, Sergeant… set all the records at Lejeune, but missed the long shot by fifty yards…" Major Odair comments as he flips through my file.

Abernathy propped his dusty boots on the table, "Wait… Everdeen… are you Abraham's kid?" I suck in air and nod through gritted teeth. "He was part of my company… Good man," I nod again, but I think he was expecting me to speak.

"Yeah, my mother didn't take it too well," I lament. He nods, taking the sheet from Peeta and letting out a loud chuckle.

"Gimme that," he says, taking the pen and writing something on the paper. "Here you go, Sarge, everything you need to know about the 74th Battalion…"

I snatch the paper away from him; Peeta had written a few notes next to the names:

_PFC Daniel Cato – Self-proclaimed "ladies man", quite possibly mentally ill._

_Pvt Lisa Clove – Impressive with a knife, ninja division?_

_PFC Jacob Marvel – "Sniper extraordinaire"_

_LCprl Annie Cresta – Deceptively non-threatening_

_PFC Dina Glimmer - Most likely to be found in Cato's bed_

The last was written in Abernathy's handwriting.

_Cprl Peeta Mellark – Speaks five languages, only one who bothers to not make us look like a bunch of blood thirsty assholes._

"Five languages?" I ask, impressed. I could only speak English, though they had been trying to teach me Arabic.

"Yep - Farsi, Arabic, French, Spanish, English… plus, I'm learning Mandarin," he said proudly as my jaw dropped. "Speaking of which, when do you think we'll get back into town? Rue's going to be done the book I gave her last time."

"Rue?" I ask.

He picks his helmet up off the table and pulls a picture out of the webbing. "Here," he says, handing it to me. The photo was worn around the edges, but felt oh so precious. Normally, a Marine in full combat uniform was threatening, but he was crouched next to a beaming dark skinned girl. "Her mom was killed in the crossfire, but her dad's surprisingly forward thinking. He caught me teaching her how to read one day and just grinned, saying that it was about time someone gave his daughter a chance to make something of herself."

I found myself wondering why he didn't have a picture of his family in there. I lean over and notice a picture of a large mutt. It was cute, dumb dog eyes full of love, with a smooth, rust-colored coat and a large tongue.

"You won't be back there for a good two weeks. I can deliver something to her if you want, we're going out there in two days." Odair says and Mellark nods at him, grinning.

"I told her about _To Kill a Mockingbird_. It was the book I used to get familiar with the language." They seem to have forgotten about me, so I continue reading the roster. Cato was the one relieving Peeta and I at 0700, that would have to change…

"Mellark, could you show me to Cato's room?" I ask. "I need to tell him we're moving his guard duty to later in the day…"

"I can have Hawthorne fill in, he's been working that shift," Odair tells me, and I nod.

"1500?" I ask. Guard shifts were eight hours, so three in a day. You couldn't leave your post until the next person came to relieve you. Most jobs were at a tower or guarding a door. Since we were technically officers, Peeta and I had the privilege of patrol.

"Yeah yeah, I'll be sure to tell him."

Abernathy was watching me intently, this was do or die time. The time when I made my mark on the USMC, and surely my Major would be watching my every move.

"No need, I have time to tell both of them. I'm sure you have something more important to do besides dealing with guard schedules." I say, earning a grin from Major Odair.

"Smart kid, you're both dismissed."

Peeta and I walk in silence back to the dormitories. I read each name plate on the door until I found Gale's, knocking loudly. "Hawthorne! Put your pants back on and open the door!" I yell through the thick wood. I heard stumbling before a disheveled Gale Hawthorne opened the door. His computer was open and I could see a woman's face, laughing.

"The nerve of you, boy," I scold him. "I need a favor… Guard duty from 0700 to 1500?" He was blushing deeply and I'm not sure he fully heard me. "Gale?" I ask in a sing-song voice, trying to pull him back to reality.

"Yeah yeah, sure, why though?"

"PT, can't do it midday and one of my privates has duty that shift," I say, leaning on the door frame and crossing my arms.

"Sounds good. Now… is there anything else, Catnip, or can I go back to my nap?"

I roll my eyes and begin putting my jacket on. "Sure, Gale… your 'nap'. Nice meeting ya, Jo… kind of." Gale backs up and closes the door in my face.

"Huh…" Peeta starts and leads me to Cato's room. "Here I thought you and Gale were together, just not official because… you know." The brass tended to separate married couples. This was mostly because if the woman got pregnant, it was a loss of man power and a waste of money since they'd have to fulfill their own contract and their fill in's.

"Oh no, Gale's my best friend from back home. Why, do we look like a couple?" I ask in the most love struck voice I could muster, which being me was not much.

"Nah, just after school and everything… everyone thought you two would end up hitched, then you up and enlisted." I shiver a little at his response. Gale was basically my brother.

Peeta pounds on Cato's door, "Private, open up!" His voice was deep and full of command, nothing like the kind eyes he always wore.

A shirtless Cato opens the door, and a disheveled Clove sits blushing on the bed. _Wonderful…_

"Oh, Sarge, looks like I can't make it to your PT! I have guard duty in the AM," he informs me in a smug voice.

"Not anymore. Major Odair saw the importance of us all being in attendance, so we swapped your shift with Hawthorne." He snapped his jaw closed and slammed the door in our faces. "Bitch!" he hisses.

I just shrug in return, "Let's do this… Show me the ropes, Mellark."

We put on our helmets and were issued our rifles. "Wait, this isn't mine…" I mumble, looking over the brand new stock and barrel. "Where's mine? The one I came here with?" I checked the scope, it was all wrong!

"There was damage to yours; it needed a new scope and barrel." I huff in return and sling it over my shoulder.

"All wrong!" I grumble, checking the scope again and again. It was adjusted for a man, who never had to worry about his breasts getting in the way. It took me days to get my scope perfect, then in four hours they ruined it.

"We have like twenty before we have to relieve the people at our post… firing range?" Peeta suggests, holding out a screwdriver.

I load a magazine into my rifle. The sound of it clicking into place used to send chills down my spine - a marvel of modern engineering snapping perfectly into place with little to no resistance. But right now, I was too angry to appreciate it.

Apparently, my reputation preceded me. As I assume the standing shooting position, people stopped moving. I fire one shot, missing the kill zone by a few shameful inches. I let out another grumble and began adjusting. A second shot, and I was doing better. Hit the kill zone, even though I never shot from standing - always sitting or lying. There were long tables faced for seated shooting, but that was basically like standing. Instead, I moved the table long ways and laid down.

I heard the murmurs already. Female shooter? Laying down? The farthest target out was 500 yards, an easy shot for me.

I pull back the bolt, my spent casing falling to the ground, only making small adjustments before double tapping the trigger. Right in the kill zone!

I give a smug smile before rolling off the table. "Good enough," I say to Mellark as I put the safety back on my gun and sling it over my shoulder. "I was off a little," I grin at his slack jaw.

"We all make mistakes," he says, throwing his arm over my shoulder. I didn't shy away from the gesture, since he felt friendly enough.

The people at our post seem relieved to leave. Apparently, there had been a sniper located in the mountains. _Wonderful…_

Our patrol turned into a tour as Peeta showed me the makeshift hospital, the mess hall, and a basketball court covered in a thick layer of sand.

"We had a dust storm not too long ago," he explains. "No one ever bothered to sweep it off because it'll just get covered again." There were a few shirtless men shooting from the outer circle, every bounce of the ball kicking up dust.

I took a sip from my canteen offering some to Peeta, but he brushed it off. "Listen, I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier, you know…" We had stopped walking; this was our post until we had to patrol the perimeter again.

"Don't. Because you're right, I eat like I'll never see food again because I knew if I didn't find it, kill it, or grow it myself, I wasn't getting any because my flighty mother shut off after my pops…" I stop myself and kick up some dust. "So… Marine? I thought you would go straight to a big school and make your Mom and Dad proud…" I ask, trying to change the subject.

He shrugs, drinking from his own canteen now. "By the time my brothers went through, Mom and Dad were out of funds. So I joined up figuring it was peace time; that they wouldn't send me anywhere bad. I always kind of wanted to serve my country. Then nine eleven happened and I basically begged to be sent to Afghanistan…" he finishes and pulls out two meal bars. They were supposed to taste like chocolate and have enough calories to be a meal, but had a chalky texture. Peeta handed one to me and tore into the other. "That was my first tour. When I came home, Mom and Dad looked at me like I was a stranger. Their innocent little boy had gone off to war," he says and chews on his nail. "I stayed with them for a few months before being sent here and I've been here ever since." I nod.

"You?" he asks.

"I want to make my Dad proud…" I start, chewing methodically on my bar. "Mom nearly went grey when I told her. She thinks I'm going to have the same fate as her husband…" I say, laughing a little. "Prim's graduating high school soon, though we keep moving her around, first from Pennsylvania to Maryland, and now North Carolina." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"So you're the man of the house?" he jokes, nudging me a little.

"Sure, I guess so…" I say, brushing some hair behind my ear. "So what about you? Is there any special lady waiting for you back home?"

He let out a short laugh, washing the dense bar down with more water. "Yeah, there was this one girl. I've had my eye on her since the first day of school when we were five. Sang like a songbird… but I was too scared to make friends with her. When she got older, everyone assumed she had a guy," he shrugs. "So I left her alone, still too afraid to talk to her. Oh well," he shrugs again and spits on the ground.

"When you get back, you should call her. Every girl loves a Marine!"

He laughs and nudges me again, "I'll think about it, Everdeen…"


	3. Push Yourself

**Chapter 3 – Push Yourself**

Peeta and I stand in front of the obstacle course. "When was the last time you ran one of these?" he teases. Non-deployables were notorious for being soft in this particular aspect.

"Like… two years ago?" I smirk. We were relieved fifteen minutes early by Gale and a foxy-like redhead from his battalion, so we had about a half hour to bullshit before the rest of the 74th arrived. "Come on, I can't get shown up by these guys, we'll run partners," I suggest. This meant that we couldn't move to the next challenge until the partner was ready. Times were always a little slower, but it taught people to rely on someone else.

"Ready?" I ask, setting my watch. We might as well time this officially. "Go!"

We run forward. The first obstacle was the tires, stereotypically easy for someone with small feet like myself, though somehow Peeta beat me through it.

"Cheater!" I laugh before diving into the dirt to crawl under the wire. The first time I did this it was full of mud, but now it was just hard sand. He beat me again and offered his hand to pull me off the ground.

Because of my size and lack of stocky muscle, the bars are where I could gain an advantage over Peeta, but only by a few seconds. The only major challenge was a slightly slanted wood wall with no rope, it was SUPPOSED to be down.

I got down on my knees and cupped my hands, "I'll break your-" he starts.

"Shut up and go, then lift me up!" I scold. His weight hurt on my knee, but I could deal. He lifted himself to the top and leaned down for my hand, lifting me like a rag doll before dropping down once I was situated.

"Jump! I'll catch you!" he yells.

_1… 2… 3…_I throw myself from the device and soon found myself in strong arms. We probably linger there a moment too long. "I- Sorry!"

Peeta set me on my feet and we were off to a similar obstacle with ropes. My lack of strength and his weight evened this one out. After we had lowered ourselves down there, it was just a one hundred yard dash to the finish. Since this was not a race, we kept pace with each other, one pulling ahead with the other catching up.

There was already a thin layer of sweat on my brow as we crossed the finish line, and our battalion had already gathered to watch.

"Six minutes," I tell him, stopping my watch. "Gonna have to up your game, Mellark," I elbow him playfully.

"It's your short legs, Everdeen," he says, pushing back. I was about a head shorter than him, but years of track, the only sport I participated in, made me fast. It was probably the good minute he was cradling me that slowed us down.

I clap my hands together, rubbing some dust off them. "Alright, we're going to jog the perimeter, nothing too strenuous, everyone line up!"

Peeta was the second highest in rank. After his next physical test, he would most likely be promoted to Sergeant. We ran in two rows - the two of us in front, Cato and Clove behind us, followed by Marvel and Glimmer. I didn't know the rest, but they all fell in neat lines not second guessing my actions, my commands, or my pace.

Everyone was still groggy at this hour, even me, but I had to push on. When we got back to the course, I crouched on the ground. "Warm-ups aren't over, did you think I'd go easy on you?" I'm good at making friends, "Come on, drop and we'll do twenty!"

I had learned a cool trick in Basic… push-ups with one hand. I think everyone expected me to drop to my knees. "One!" My battalion followed suit with no one else daring to go one handed, not even Cato. "Two!" We went slowly. On each dip close to the dirt, I could see my breath kicking up dust but continued until we got to twenty.

"Alright, shake out those wrists. You're going to have a little break now. Get a drink, you all need it," I order, wiping my brow. Though it was only about eight in the morning, the temperature was easily seventy five degrees, and would only get hotter.

Cato and Marvel were the first ones in line for the obstacle course, thinking they would breeze through and get off early. "You'll all do it twice, once with myself, once as a battalion. You're all very cliquey, and unless you want to spend the rest of your time here on guard duty, or cleaning guns for _actual_ divisions, you're going to have to get over that juvenile train of thought."

I stretch my arms and steal a glance at Peeta, his concerned eyes meeting mine. I was willingly running PT in the climbing Iraq heat, and would be running the course at least ten times for the rest of my division.

"Cato, since you're so eager…" I say, then notice something. "Too eager to put on your bulletproof vest?"

"Don't wear Kevlar for PT… _Sarge_," he retorts.

I cross my arms. "I'll tell those snipers on the hills that," I say, pointing off in the distance. "That's only about one thousand yards, doesn't take much training to make a shot like that." He sneers at me as I take off my jacket, feeling no need to overheat myself too soon.

"Here," I turn, handing Peeta my watch. "Person with the best time doesn't get overnight duty!" I was already planning on saving that patrol for myself and Peeta, since it was quiet and calm then, not to mention cool.

"Ready?" I ask, and Cato nods. "Go!"

Everything went swimmingly. Much to my surprise, he managed to wait for me whenever I ever fell behind. When we got to the wooden wall and kneel, he groans.

"You can't be quitting, seriously?" he sounds so condescending as I place my hands on my knee like I did for Peeta.

"Put your foot here, pull yourself up, then pull me up," I hiss. "Clock's ticking!" He hesitated for a second before putting his weight on my knee, then pulling me up like a rag doll. Without hesitation, he jumps off.

"Oof!" I groan, feeling a warm sensation in my right ankle. I press on, ignoring it, and soon enough, it goes away. After I run through Cato, Clove, Glimmer, Marvel, Cresta, and the largest man I've ever seen, Thresh, I find that my limp is noticeable. A firm hand pulls me off to the side.

"You're hurt," Peeta whispers, though I pull away.

"I'm fine," I reply and rest my weight on my bad ankle, "See?" I tried not to let my face betray me, but soon it was contorted in pain.

"Go get it looked at, I can take it from-"

"No, Peeta, you don't understand," I say, interrupting him. "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat. If I limp off with my tail between my legs, they'll never respect me and we'll be sitting here on this base until we're sent home. Don't you want to see Rue again?" I knew which buttons to press to get him to stop bothering me. The little girl in Fallujah was definitely one of them.

"Katniss…" he starts, there he goes with that damn concern again.

"It's just one more run, then I'll get off it…" I promise, though I couldn't look him in the eyes. Just off to the distance, the air was hot and dry. I wanted nothing more than to strip down and find water to roll in, but I couldn't, at least not yet.

"Fine…" he hisses through gritted teeth.

When we ran as a group, Peeta and I kept up the rear. Thresh and Cresta set the pace seeing as they had the two best times. Thresh, though last, was the winner, mostly because he was strong enough to carry me over the two climbing obstacles like a sack of flour.

When I reach the top of the ropeless wall, Peeta looks up at me, "I'll catch you!" he promises again. I trust him, though I should probably be more apprehensive. If I land on my ankle wrong again, though, I probably won't be getting back up.

I didn't linger in his arms, instead flailing out and running to the next obstacle. _I won't rely on him,_ I told myself. I could do this, I was strong.

My legs felt like jell-o as we walked into breakfast. Despite my speech, the tired and sweaty 74th still divided into their cliques. I went to sit alone, but Peeta followed me. "You promised you'd get off your ankle," he reminds me as I sit down.

"Breakfast first, then shower, then I'll sleep it off…" I say. "You should, too, since we have guard duty overnight again…"

I pushed my "eggs" around with my fork, "Ah yeah, best shift of the day," he remarks and I look up at him. Normally, people didn't want to offset their sleep schedule like that, but he was completely serious. "There's not a lot of light pollution out here… did you notice the stars last night?"

I shrug. To be honest, all I was looking at was him, a blush finding my cheeks. "Everdeen, you're flushed, drink more water," he commands, handing me his canteen which I sip from slowly. After a workout like that, too much water can result in projectile vomiting. "You are _not_ doing that again."

I shrug at his warning tone, "Says who? I outrank you… I-"

Our voices were hushed, but still it seemed like the room was trying to overhear our soon-to-be argument. "Katniss, rank only means so much, especially when someone's running themselves to death just to prove they're not weak," he implores. "Even the strongest of us ask for help from time to time. Let me help you…"

I would have hit him if I had the energy, or at least stormed off. Instead I sat there, exhausted and fuming. He's right - well, kind of. "Fine, you can help with PT…" I grumble, after all he was my second in charge. I took my hair out of my braid and ran my fingers through my dirty hair.

I shovel the rest of my food in my mouth and guzzle some more water. "Remember the schedule I gave you?"

"Mhm?" he questions.

"Add vomiting to that," I could feel my stomach gurgling. I calmly threw out my trash and found my way to the nearest ladies room… which was in the barracks.

The bathroom was empty as I expected, with most everyone at breakfast. I barely made it to the toilet before my food and the gallon of water I had chugged came up. I was still in my vest, making it impossible to get a good breath of air. Gasping and heaving at the same time has to be one of the scariest combinations of bodily functions in the world. As I fumble for the Velcro, I feel it ripped from my body and my hair removed from my face. I don't question this at all; my only concern expelling the rest of my breakfast from my body and sitting on the cool bathroom floor. Afterwards, I wipe my mouth on a piece of toilet paper.

Shame was the first thing I felt upon seeing Peeta's concerned face. "See?" he asks. It was as good as him telling me, 'I told you so'. His strong hand was rubbing the sweaty nape of my neck.

"How can you touch me? I'm filthy…"

He just shrugs and smiles, "Then get a shower, and go to bed." I felt like a child. First the ankle, now the vomiting… couldn't the odds be in my favor for once?

"I brought your toothbrush… I hope you don't mind me going into your room, figured…"

I put a finger to his lips just to shut him up. "Thanks, Mellark. Maybe you should be the Sergeant…" I put my head between my knees, his hands rubbing my back.

"Well… I have my exam in two weeks, but I won't be a staff, just regular… if I pass," I knew he was smiling, don't know how though.

"You help me survive this week, and I'll make sure you pass that damn test." I promise and put my hand on his shoulder, attempting to shake him a little but only managing to topple myself onto him.

I don't know if it was the heat or what, but I let myself linger for a second too long. "I…" he stood up, hauling me to my feet. "I better head to bed. See you tonight." I nod as he rushed out of the ladies room off to his own barracks.

Bed, that's what I need. I didn't bother to check my computer or get dressed. I flop onto my bed, pull the sheets up to my neck and let everything go black. At 1500, there was banging at my door. "Ugh… Can't they take care of themselves for five minutes?" I question to the wall, getting up and realizing I was still naked. I pull on a grey t-shirt and sweat shorts before answering the door.

"Ravishing, as always," Major Abernathy smirks. I fidget, realizing that my shorts were too short, shirt was too loose… combined with the lack of a bra.

"Sorry, sir, I was grabbing some shut-eye before patrol tonight," I say as he glances at my living space. He wasn't inspecting - just getting a feel for it, a feel for me.

"I was watching your PT today… Impressive…" he remarks, picking up the picture of Prim from my helmet. "I've never seen a more dedicated Sergeant, especially after one day. Cute kid, is she yours?"

"No, my little sister," I laugh and snatch the photo from him. It was more precious to me than my rifle… and I really love my rifle.

"We've decided to move up Corporal Mellark's Sergeant test, not because you can't handle them-"

I cut him off, "He deserves it, sir. If there's anything I can do to help him, I will." I saw the old man's eyes light up.

"Eager like your old man…" he chuckles. "It's his dreamy eyes, isn't it?" I groan at him, sitting down on my bed. "You're going to have to move him off guard duty. And with that ankle of yours, I wouldn't bother going out there. We've rescheduled for the next few days." I glance down at my foot - it had turned black and blue with a twinge of green.

"Aw, come on!" I said to my foot, while the major only seemed to grow more and more enthused.

"Let the Corporal run PT for the next few days while you heal. We could always use it as his Sergeant test," he suggests, which is very unorthodox. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Maybe it was something in his lively eyes, or maybe it was the small smile playing on his lips. But for some reason, I just knew he wasn't.

"The sooner you cooperate with my orders, the sooner you'll actually get off the ground and start doing something, Everdeen. You've been relieved from guard duty and PT, though I expect to see you on the range. Major Odair and I both expect Mellark's score to be exceptional," he says, closing the door.

After the Major left, I got on my computer. My mother emailed me pictures of our new house, telling me my room would be waiting when I came home. They got a deal on a house that was in foreclosure with two bedrooms more than we needed. Space for guests, I imagine…

All of a sudden something popped up on my screen. Prim was calling me though Skype. My heart skipped a beat, knowing I could see her face, talk to her, and actually hear her voice.

"Hey little duck!" I greet, feeing at ease for the first time in a few days.

There was a few seconds lag but she smiles back, "Katniss! How is it? Is it hot?"

"A little… Excited for the move?" I ask hopefully.

She rolls her eyes, "Not really, I'm hoping this one is more permanent…"

"It should be, at least until you graduate high school." I debate whether or not to tell her about Peeta, not wanting to keep Prim away from her day. It was Saturday after all.

"How's Mom?" I finally ask.

"Cleaning _everything_. She doesn't stop moving until she passes out. I think she's afraid… but she's sleeping now so…" Prim shrugs. I hear my door open and close, but no footsteps.

"Hey, Gale," I watch him approach on camera, my eyes not leaving the screen.

"Prim! Look at you I bet you have all the guys going after you now!" he exclaims.

"No! No guys, Prim!" I shook a finger.

"Rory lives in Jacksonville with your Mom, right?" she asks. Gale chuckles and nods, knowing about her crush on his younger brother since grade school.

"Damn you, Gale!" I shake my fist and push him away, shifting on my ankle and wincing a little.

"Katniss!" Prim gasps. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Prim, just a sprained ankle. I'll be up and running in no time. If Gale has nothing better to do, he should take me to get it wrapped." I knew this information would alleviate Prim's stress over such a minor injury.

"I'll let you go," she says. "I love you, Katniss."

I smile, "I love you, too, Prim. Tell Mom I'm safe and good luck with the move. I can't wait to see the house!"

After I close my computer, a dark piece of fabric hits my face, my sports bra. "Don't think you want to go out there without one," he admonishes. "You've already caught the attention of _every_ man on this base. Though… only like three quarters of them want to bend you over and-"

"Gale!" I hiss. He turns around as I lift my shirt up to hook the bra in the back. "I don't need to hear about that!" I say, applying deodorant. I pull my shirt down and put on the only other pair of shoes I brought to Iraq, well-worn sneakers that wouldn't put much pressure on my ankle.

"Ready, Catnip?" he asks, his back still to me.

"You can turn around, don't know why you bother… you've seen me naked before," I tease. We don't talk much about the few times we were intimate, but they still happened.

"Yeah, just giving you some space, come on." He wraps his arm around my waist as I hold on to the shoulder farthest from me for support. I attempt to walk as naturally as possible. Since the Marine Corps doesn't have medics, any doctor, nurse, or field medic we have are on loan from the Navy. For the most part, we're all trained on how to keep each other alive. For us, step one was to apply a tourniquet or Quikclot, a magical powder bored Marines like to play with because of how hot it gets. It was better than playing with explosives, I guess?

The woman looks at my ankle. "It's not bad. You should be able to get back to your routine by next week." I groan in reply, that was far too long. The nurse carefully wraps my foot and ankle in a tight Ace bandage after including a splint. The support alleviated a lot of the pain, so maybe I could get back by tomorrow…I'd just have to rest tonight. "Here's an icepack. Come back for a new one whenever it gets warm. For tonight, keep it elevated and no running on it!" she scolds as I put my sneakers back on. I'm given some aspirin for the pain, which I dry swallow.

"I'm starved," I tell Gale, the smell of dinner wafting through the warm halls.

"Yeah, you're looking a little thin…" he says, squeezing my side, which almost sent me toppling over.

My dinner consists of another Tabasco-covered random protein, veg and carb tray, as was every meal I picked at. I emptied the small bottle on my food while Gale took off his jacket and vest. "Any idea when you'll get out in the city?" he asks, shoveling food in his mouth like a proper gentleman.

"Not for at least two weeks… We're _team building_," I sigh. "Also, Corporal Mellark is hopefully going to become Sergeant Mellark in seven days, which will give me more time up in a post instead of on the ground like a sitting duck…"

"You've never liked being on the ground… probably why you spent all of our winter breaks up in your tree stand," he teases.

"Hey!" I point my fork at him, "We ate like kings those winters." He chuckles in reply.

"So… if you're getting a second Sarge, does that mean you're going for Gunnery?"

Gunnery Sergeant was the rank above Staff Sergeant. I made a face that earned another chuckle and went back to my food. "Maybe by the time you leave, you'll be Major Sergeant Katniss Everdeen," he jokes with a mouthful of food.

"And you'll be a five star General…" I retort, pushing my hot sauce covered potatoes around my plate. "I think I'm done with promos. I just want to do my job, not climb the corporate ladder." I clean my plate with my finger today, not bothering to act like a lady. "Could you show me to Mellark's room? I'm not sure if the Major told him our… situation."

"_Situation?" _Gale balks, raising his eyebrows. "Katniss, you just met the guy… well…" he crosses his arms over his chest, going into 'older brother mode'.

"They pulled me from guard because of my ankle, and him because they want him to score high on his Sergeant test," I shrug.

"They?"

"Odair and Abernathy." I could see Gale drooping, dark circles under his eyes. "Come on, show me to his room and go to bed." I stand, tapping the back of my hand against his shoulder.

When we got to Peeta's room, I knocked lightly. Gale had left me to go to bed and I was getting stares from men in the hall. Maybe Peeta had a lot of female guests in his room?

I knew I had permission to barge into his room given my rank, but respected him enough to wait for him to open the door.

"H-hi," I said, my breath catching in my throat. I squeezed the frozen icepack in my hand, which resisted the pressure from my fingers. I stood there gawking at his muscular chest for much longer than I should before he pulls me into his room.

Someone whistled, another one told him to 'give it to her good'.

"Shut the hell up, Jackson," Peeta barks and closes the door behind us. I stand there, completely unable to speak as Corporal Mellark stands in front of me, clad in only a pair of sweat shorts.

"Something the matter, Katniss?" he asks, putting a shirt on and breaking my trance. "Here, sit down." He pats his bed, which is immaculate. I could feel myself blushing as I lowered myself onto the bed , placing the icepack on my ankle.

"Did the Major come by?" I ask, itching at my leg a little where the bandage was chafing.

"Naw, should he have?" he replies, browsing his computer and not bothering to look at me.

"Yeah, probably. I was removed from guard duty tonight… and every night until I can stand on this." I lift my ankle a little, wincing now that the throbbing has started again.

"You should have stopped this morning when I told you," he says sternly, still not looking at me.

"You're off guard duty as well. Major Abernathy and Major Odair want you to spend the next few days working on your test to make Sergeant, as well as running PT."

He smirks in reply, finally looking in my direction. "Isn't that your job?"

"Yeah, but I'm disabled. I can watch and critique, but you're the one being tested. I think they figure if we have a Sergeant on the ground, I can be up in a sniper's post. They _really_ want you to pass."

He chews at his thumbnail a little. "So you got them to push up my test so you could spend twelve hours sitting on a bucket waiting for something to shoot?"

"No, that's just the payment I get for helping you. If I keep off this tonight, I should be up and running tomorrow morning anyway. I-"

He cuts me off, "Let me look at it." I try to pull my injured ankle in, but he was already on the bed, sitting with my bad foot in his lap. He removes my sneaker and then the bandage with expert care. "Well, it's not swollen… but it's bruised pretty bad. You shouldn't be running the obstacle course on this," I bit my lip as his fingers felt along the worst part of the bruising. "But you're going to try anyway no matter what I think," he says with a defeated sigh. _Good, he's learning._

"Maybe… Major Abernathy told me he'd be watching. I don't want him to demote me because I can't follow directions…" I watch him wrap my ankle again and put the icepack back on it. We sit there for a few minutes in silence. "We should probably get started," I say. "You can pass the physical part with your eyes closed." On his bed side table were the heavy work books on the history of the USMC, along with every other fun factoid he'd need to know in order to become Sergeant.

Because Peeta and I had slept through the day, we stayed up until sunrise, only studying for a few hours. We sat there talking about when we were kids, though we never really interacted. We find out we were pretty much in the same classes from the time we were five up until middle school. I kept my foot in his lap until the ice pack got warm and the pain pills wore off.

He was telling me about wrestling. "Yeah, you came in second to your brother your junior year," I recall as the memory emerges from my mind.

_I had just gotten off track practice. The only person besides Gale I ever considered my friend, Madge Undersee, came up to me. She was the Mayor's daughter, and had a fair amount of friends, giving me a good hand of acquaintances. I'd always be that weird girl that would rather be out hunting, though._

"_Aw come on, you know you want to go," she said. I was sitting on a wooden bench in the women's locker room, braiding my hair. Most days I'd be out in the woods hunting after practice. but Gale had detention. I didn't really like going into the woods alone, especially with the mountain lions and bears around. We saw one two days ago from afar and turned right around. You didn't mess with a full sized black bear._

_Gale made me promise not to go in the woods without him. I was sixteen and he was seventeen. We were experimenting with dating, so he was ten times more protective than normal._

"_Fine… but you owe me," I said. She was trying to get me friendly with her other friends, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed merchant girls from the richer part of town. I stuck out like a sore thumb with my black hair and dark skin. Each and every one of them looked at me as if I was an outsider in my hunting boots, flannel shirt and well-worn jeans. I idly watched each of the matches until the end, two blonde boys. They were both about the same size. I recognized one of them as Peeta Mellark. The other must have been his older brother, Ryan._

_This was the only match I watched intently. When it looked as if Peeta would win, he looked up at the crowd towards me. Our eyes locked for two seconds too long and Ryan flipped him over._

"You lost because of me," I claim, leaning my head back against the wall.

Peeta just shrugs and smiles. "Doesn't matter now, the past is the past. Now come on, we have a half hour before we need to be outside and you're going to take forever to get ready." He put my shoe back on and helped me to my feet.

"Why, because I'm a woman?"

"No, because of your ankle…" he remarks, looking around, "I have to take my shorts off. You might want to turn around; it's not very professional for you to gawk at me again," I lean forward, trying to take a swing at him before he gingerly throws me onto his bed so I'm facing down.

"Would you stop trying to hit me and let me get ready?"


	4. Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 4 – Calm Before The Storm**

Peeta and I fall into an almost comfortable pattern. At 0700, we'd have PT followed by breakfast, then sleep until about 1500. Upon waking, we'd both go to the firing range. Peeta was an impressive shot at close range, so I only had to help him with anything above 250 yards. At 1900, we'd usually eat dinner together. He'd try to teach me Arabic, while I would teach him about calculating aim based on wind humidity and time of day. Both were equally complicated subjects.

We had one more night before his Sergeant test, but ended up back on guard duty between 2300 and 0700. "You've really helped the division…" I smiled a little. In a week, he got them working as a team, something I probably couldn't do. This frustrated me, but I was genuinely happy for my friend.

"They're sick of being on base," he says. "Rumor has it we could be out in three days." We diverted only slightly from our path away from the lights of the base. "Look up," he says, pointing at the sky.

"How did I not notice this the first time?" I ask, gawking at the thousands upon thousands of stars and the trails of dust from the Milky Way.

"When people first get here, they tend to keep their heads down. It's not until you're comfortable that you can lift your head up and enjoy the subtle beauty of the place," he remarks, taking a drink.

"So you have a weakness for beautiful things?" I tease as we get back on our path. The gate was creaking open and the convoy that had gone out to get the latest air drop of precious supplies was returning safely.

"I wouldn't call it a weakness… just an eye for them."

I smile again. It was refreshing to know someone still had a positive outlook on life, even when more and more people were returning to the States in flag draped coffins. We hadn't lost a man since I arrived here, so there was a cocky feeling coming over Camp Dreamland.

I found it easy to talk to Peeta about basically anything, even our silences felt comfortable. We had canceled PT for the next morning, much to 74th's relief. I had a meeting at Command, and Peeta's exam was scheduled for 0800.

We turned in our weapons and headed to breakfast as soon as we were relieved from duty. "Any idea what the meeting's on?" he asks, tearing into a piece of bacon.

I took a sip of my coffee, which was basically milk with a brownish tint. "Hopefully them telling me that we'll be going to Fallujah," I say, downing the rest and setting down the paper cup. "You nervous at all?" I ask, picking at my now cold food. Temperature didn't matter; I'd just add more pepper and hot sauce.

"Nah, they gave me a pretty good teacher," he winks, which I return with a small smile.

It was only Majors Abernathy and Odair in Command today. They were writing on the map covering the wooden table. "Took you long enough," Abernathy grumbles, looking at the clock. I was five minutes early.

"Sorry, I had to see my Corporal off to his Sarge exam, sirs," I explain, taking the seat closest to the map.

"We're sending you to Fallujah tomorrow morning," Abernathy says as I nearly choke on my water. That's not a lot of time to prepare! "You and Private Marvel will rotate six on, six off in the sniper's nest located here," he circles a building not too far into the city. "We've secured the area to the north of the post, but have had activity here…" he points, drawing X's on three buildings about 1000 yards away from the post, "Here… and here. Your division will be patrolling this sector," he indicates, squaring off a few blocks. "Major Odair and I will be between your sector and the one next to it," he chews on the pen methodically, threatening to break it as I take in all the information. "We leave at 0700, and return at 1500 when the next division comes to relieve us. This routine will be repeated until further notice. Any questions, Sergeant Everdeen?"

I shake my head no. "Good," Odair nods. "Your division will be back here at 1000 to receive their briefing. Head over to the armory now and make sure everything's right with your weapon. I heard they messed up your scope pretty good," he says, smirking.

"Yeah, they seem to forget some of us have breasts," I motion to the lumps of flesh on my chest and his green eyes light up as he laughs.

"On the other side of the base there's a range to accommodate long range shooting. We want to see kill zones and nothing less." I nod in confirmation. "You're dismissed, Everdeen."

I stand up and salute them. "Thank you, sirs." I was going into combat… tomorrow.

Do I tell Prim? Would it scare her? I couldn't worry her…

I was given my baby for the first time since I got here. She was still in her case and hopefully still adjusted perfectly. I took an armful of targets and made the long trek across base. I heard the whispers as I walked, my long black case in tow. Apparently my reputation had preceded me.

"Where are you going with that, Catnip?" Gale asks as I pass his post.

"Target practice!" I shout, waving the handful of paper targets in the air. The longest sniper shot was just over eight thousand feet. I would probably never achieve that distance, especially since the range only went to 1000 yards. At that distance, there were permanent targets… or at least whole ones that no one had bothered to shoot at. I walk about halfway down the range and begin setting up targets on the hanging wires. I set some up close together, writing "CIV" for civilian in black marker. Once my papers were all in position, I turn around noticing a small crowd had gathered to watch.

Ignoring them, I set up my rifle, propping it up on its front legs and taking my position on the table. Thankfully, nothing had been tampered with on my rifle. My heart sang as I took the first shot at about 1000 yards, hitting the kill zone perfectly right on the X in the center. We rarely went for the chests, so I adjusted my aim slightly. My next shot hit the head, so I adjust again to hit a closer target barely visible behind a "CIV". Normally, I was in complete isolation while doing something like this. Now people were whispering, betting money and cigarettes that I wouldn't hit the next one.

"_One shot, one kill," _I thought to myself, as yet another target felt my bullet.

I emptied my magazine into the targets before sitting up, satisfied with my own performance. "Did _anyone_ bet in my favor?" I ask. There was a murmur, and I rolled my eyes while packing up my gun. "Men…" I sigh. They'd be betting in my favor next time, that's for sure. All of them were fixated on the targets, each with a single shot to the head. Call me strange, but _that_ was beauty right there.

I return my rifle after locking the case, rushing back to Command. The last to arrive, even though it was still five of, I took the last available seat between Cato and Marvel. "Punctual as always," Abernathy mutters.

"Sorry, sir, got caught up at the firing range," I say. Odair nods and slaps down a pile of fives and ones.

"You're good. I took a chance betting on you and it paid off," he smiles, fanning the bills as I sink down in my chair. "I do have enough smokes now to give a whale cancer," he shrugs.

"Are you finished?" Abernathy asks without looking up, concentrating on the map.

"Would _you_ like a smoke, Haymitch? You've been on edge since we got here," Odair teases. We all just sat in silence; we could never talk to Abernathy like that without there being repercussions.

If looks could kill, Major Finnick Odair would be dead on the ground. "I'm sorry, some of our wives are back in the States eight months pregnant with our third child. Now, before we get too _distracted_, we have a new Sergeant. I just got word that Corporal Peeta Mellark passed with flying colors. No thanks to you, sweetheart," he says, smirking. I knew he was teasing, but at that moment, his 'sweetheart' seemed like the most thoughtfully condescending thing ever said.

"And thanks to your exemplary performance in the last week as reported by Staff Sergeant Everdeen, we've decided to send you back to Fallujah starting tomorrow at 0700." I began tuning out as my battalion began cheering and patting each other on back.

"Marvel and Everdeen will switch between four hour shifts up in the nest, her first. You'll be out there for twelve hours, so three for her, one for you, boy." This seemed to disgruntle Marvel.

Everyone but Peeta and I were dismissed shortly after the meeting. Naturally, we had to stay behind to work out the logistics.

"We'll have Cato and Clove posted here… Marvel and Everdeen up here, whoever's not in that post will be with Mellark, Glimmer and Cresta here… Thresh will be coming with us as well." It all seemed so simple, like a game of chess.

Once we were dismissed, Peeta and I grabbed an early lunch, but he seemed uneasy. "Everything okay?" I ask, using my teeth to open my hot sauce. I definitely use more of the stuff than anyone else.

"Did you see how eager everyone was to get onto the battlefield? It's like they're looking for a fight," he said, clearly worried about civilian casualties, as anyone would be. "Go through the hardest training known to man… and they're like… thirsting for blood. They weren't like this before we lost like half the division…" he sighs, idly eating. "I'm just worried someone will do something stupid, you know?"

I nod, having finished my food and now playing with the end of my braid. Since we were going into combat tomorrow, I'd have to actually follow regulation and put it in a bun. "Hopefully, they're smart enough to do what's right," I say hopefully. It was all we could ask for, honestly.

I spend the remainder of the day lying in bed and staring at the celling. Sleep wouldn't come to me until after dinner. Gale and I ate together in an uncomfortable silence. He was going into Fallujah tomorrow as well, being part of Major Odair's company.

"General Paylor is apparently visiting in a few weeks…" I twist the pasta on my fork, staring at it intently as Gale spoke about the four-star General visiting Dreamland soon. He had apparently met her once and thought she would go far. "She's General Coin's right hand… and I think left as well." I respond by putting my fork in my mouth and slurping loudly. "Catnip, are you listening to me at all?"

"Something about Coin and Paylor and someone visiting?" I shrug, drinking my water as he rolls his eyes at me. "Have you told Prim yet?" Ugh, how did he know…?

"No, she doesn't need to be worried, and neither does my Mom. They already have enough going on without worrying about me over here," I wipe the sauce from my lips and stand up. "I'm going to try and go to bed now…"

I wasn't done eating, but at this point I was so tired I could barely stand. I threw my door open and shut it as best I could. I fell on my bed, sleep immediately enveloping me.

"Too soon…" I grumble at suddenly being shaken awake. I was absolutely exhausted.

"Katniss…" the person called as I tried to roll over. My alarm wasn't going off, "Katniss!"

The urgency of the voice jerked me awake. "Prim!" I call. No, it wasn't Prim's voice at all. Opening my steel grey eyes, I met the concerned blue eyes of Sergeant Mellark. "Peeta? Why are you in my room?" I ask, rubbing my tired eyes.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he smirks as my stomach sinks. My tired brain, so used to coming to Peeta's room after dinner, drug me here where I fell asleep on his bed for… three hours?

I smack his side, although not hard. "How long have you been here?"

He smirks, "A few hours. I checked my email, packed my vest, and wrapped my present for Rue."

My jaw drops. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I ask.

He sits down on the bed next to me, brushing a few strands of hair from my face. I look away quickly to hide my blush. "You're kind of cute when you sleep," he compliments. "You don't scowl… improves your looks a lot." Even though I can't see his face, I know he's smiling. I turn and look back, giving him the best scowl I could muster, which turns his smile into a grin.

I groan and fall backwards. "If I leave now, they'll think we slept together. If I leave in the morning, they'll think we slept together," I moan as I roll over and face the wall.

"What, too good for me?" he teases, squeezing my side and laughing when I begin to flail around. I've never felt something more ticklish in my life. "And what's the big deal anyways? You've been in here _every night_ for the last week with the door closed…" I can feel him playing with my braid. After a few minutes, he pulls off the band and begins unbraiding my hair. I'll admit, his fingers felt amazing running through my brown locks.

"If they think we're together, they'll separate us," I yawn, hugging myself.

"If you want, I can walk you back to your room and show you how to set up your vest," he offers. I roll over and give him yet another scowl. This was something they taught us barely a week after training began. "I do need to sleep, you know. So if you don't decide what you're doing in the next minute, I'm laying down and you can deal with it."

I want to get up, but I'm tired and comfortable. _This is so unprofessional…_

"Fine by me," he says, unlacing my boots and throwing them to the ground. I hold my breath as he lays down, his back facing me.

I had shared a bed with Gale once before, just before we left for Basic. We were so nervous, so I slept at his house. This was the same, right?

I was asleep almost instantly, pressed up against the cool wall as Peeta snores quietly beside me. We woke each other up several times, one of us either grabbing at the other curiously or accidently smacking the other in the face.

"This isn't working…" Peeta yawns, rubbing his eyes. It was around 0130 or so. I was barely awake, so what happened next seemed perfectly logical. "Come here…" he whispers, sliding an arm under me and pulling me to him so I could use his chest as a pillow.

His heartbeat was strong and even, and somehow we started breathing in unison. I'll admit, it was the most peaceful night of sleep I had gotten since coming to Iraq.


	5. Rue

**Chapter 5 – Rue  
**

Calm…that's what I felt as I was woken up by the buzzing of an alarm.

_Wait… What's this?_ My pillow was moving… and making a thumping noise. I lift my head, my eyes meeting with the equally confused eyes of Peeta Mellark.

_Oh god, that wasn't a dream! _I jump over him rather comically, tripping over my own boots and falling to the floor. "Motherfucker!" I hiss. _Smooth as always, Katniss…_

Peeta had since rolled onto his side and was watching for my next move, a small smile playing on his lips. _How did I let this happen, how?_

I sit on the vacant bed that would be used for a roommate, should Peeta be assigned one, putting on my boots and sloppily tying the laces. "I'm so sorry, I don't normally do this. This is so unlike me," I blurt out all in one breath. I try working my hair into a braid, but my hands were too shaky so I gave up.

"Katniss!" he says, sitting up quickly. "You just slept here, nothing happened," I turn on his light and look at myself in the mirror.

"I have sex hair," I groan, trying to fix it. He didn't have a brush, of course. Why would a male Marine need a brush?

"_Sex hair,_" he repeats several times. "Then either I have amnesia or you have really good sex dreams!" I glare at him, which made him put his hands up defensively. "Kidding Everdeen, kidding… I think I have…" he stands, opening a drawer, "A comb somewhere here to get rid of your _sex hair_." He hands me a black comb which I start working through my hair. Next thing I know, he approaches me from behind and starts braiding it absently.

"Stop!" I exclaim, putting my hand up while turning to see his confused face. His actions were completely platonic, I could see that in his eyes. But even then, I couldn't bring myself to let him in. "I can do it myself, Peeta, I just…" I stammer, straightening out my shirt. "I'll see you at the armory, okay? Oh, and get a haircut, Sergeant," I order, trying to assert my power before running out of the room. I make a beeline straight for the mess hall, eating breakfast quickly. Some of my battalion was already here, giving me strange looks as I rushed through my food and coffee. I always ate breakfast with Peeta, generally appearing relaxed.

_Act normal_, I try to tell myself. I look at my untucked shirt and the cuffs of my pants, one tucked in, one not. I look like a girl who just rolled out of bed with a man. This was true, though it was completely platonic… right?

I manage to find my way back to my room, making sure it was actually _my_ room before wondering what just happened.

_Sure he's attractive, Katniss… and you've had your eye on him since you were kids. But he deserves a girl who's not going to be unreachable on dangerous missions for days at a time. He deserves a civilian, _I remind myself. Maybe that's one of the reasons I've pushed my childhood crush on him out of my mind for so long.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth and wash my face.

I suddenly remember my notebook from the sixth grade; I had written his name in the front cover.

"Oh God dammit!" I hiss. Now everything was going to be awkward between us! Me with my childhood crush now in the front of my mind, and him confused as hell at my batshit crazy behavior.

_It's for the best, really. He should have a civilian woman waiting for him when he comes home. Not someone like you, _I tell my reflection as I pin my hair into a tight bun and affix any loose strands.

I have forty five minutes until departure. I use every second making sure I had everything I needed in my vest and belt. I knew I'd be given a radio, so I keep one pocket empty. I put a mini first-aid kit in the other, having learned a few things from my mother. I also had assorted tools, an open holster for my handgun, plenty of magazines, and a knife at my back. On top of my t-shirt, I wore my bulletproof kevlar, followed by my camo jacket, and lastly, my tactical vest full of goodies.

_I can do this, _I remind myself, adjusting the mouthpiece to my camelback which I needed to fill.

I made my way down to the armory to get my handgun, which had no scope to be adjusted, my rifle, which was strapped to my back, and my sniper rifle.

"That's a lot of firepower for such a small package," Gale says as I pull out my handgun. There's no magazine on it, but I pull the slide back as if to cock it.

"It's only a three fifty seven magnum…" I grin. He's got the same amount to carry as me, "Oh, you mean my baby?" I lift up my rifle case, "She barely kicks."

"Someday, you're going to make a terrifying mother…" he proclaims, and I roll my eyes. Gale knew full well I was never going to have children, especially in my line of work. I snapped on my helmet, making sure Prim's picture was in it after putting on my sunglasses.

Gale got into the same Humvee as me; there were five in our convoy. We were at the front, the canary in a coal mine. If there was an IED in the road, we'd be the first to know.

"This is the most dangerous part…" he tells me in a hushed voice. "Once you get into the city, don't worry, _most_ everyone will be happy to see us."

"_Most everyone_ is waiting for us to turn our backs so they can put a bullet in our skulls," Cato interjects.

"Private Cato, is there any reason why your personal prejudice might prevent you from adequately performing your assigned duty?" I hear Peeta ask. I just noticed that he was in the truck.

"No, sir," he grumbles.

"Good, because if Sergeant Everdeen or I find you unable to perform your duties without endangering your battalion or civilians, you'll find yourself back on base until your deployment is over." I smirk at this and take a sip from the canteen at my hip. He was handling Cato's behavior far better than I would have.

I give my spare dog tag to Abernathy. If for some reason I went missing, they'd know the second they did a roll check.

"Hey Katniss…" I knew that kind voice anywhere… why now? _I'm about to go up into the sniper's nest, Peeta, please don't make this awkward._ I turn to see him adjusting his rifle on his back. "Shoot straight," he says. I nod, smiling a little before opening the door to the abandoned house and climbing the creaky stairs to the top. There was a bucket, most likely to use as a toilet, and a table to lay on that was presently occupied by a haggard looking man. A gust of wind blew, causing the building to shift slightly. It wasn't the most stable structure I've been in, that's for sure.

"So you're my replacement…" he says, not bothering to get up or look at me. I take out my gun and twist on the silencer, "You're the 'girl on fire,' right?"

"I'm not sure I follow you," I respond, attaching the legs to my rifle. He gets up, giving me the table.

"The boys on base… they were watching you yesterday and all they could say was that you were on fire on the range. Thus the 'Girl on Fire'," he explains, putting his rifle back in his case. "I've seen movement in the far building with the flat roof. We've had activity in it, but nothing major. Third window from the left," I nod, positioning myself accordingly.

I was used to the life of a sniper, staying in the same spot for hours on end. I knew we had men in the hills living in holes, switching twelve on twelve off with another guy in the same hole, so I really couldn't complain. I look at Fallujah from my position. Everything seemed to have a tan tint to it - the streets, the buildings, the cars. I use my scope to get a better view of the city. People were moving about, buzzing about their day. Suddenly, I see Mellark and Marvel walk to the edge of their patrol. A small girl came running to Peeta, hugging his legs. He bends down and embraces her while Marvel looks around awkwardly. From his pack, Peeta hands her a small, paper-wrapped parcel.

"_Rue…" _I whisper. I wanted to watch more of their exchange, but had to keep my eye on the windows. Every. Single. Window.

"_Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got! I'm still, I'm still, Jenny from the block," _I hear singing in my earpiece. I knew that voice anywhere.

"_Hawthorne… if you're going to sing, don't torture the rest of us…" _Odair scolds.

"_I thought his singing was lovely," _someone says. I saw movement, and immediately train my gun on the open window. It was just a woman shaking out a rug. I exhale a sigh of relief.

"_Hey Girl on Fire,"_ I let out an audible groan, _"You bored up there yet?"_

I put two fingers up to my earpiece, the microphone coming down around my mouth. "I'm just up here listening to you guys act like idiots while looking into people's windows."

"_To be fair… I had a rock in my boot,"_ I rest my forehead on the table, laughing.

"Thanks Gale…" I answer. His expert, jack-ass behavior was certainly helping alleviate some of my tension.

Four hours passed by quickly as I went back to my old habit of winning arguments long since passed. I took another sip from my camelback and heard footsteps on the stairs. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but heard a giggle.

I took my eye off my scope and watched Marvel set up. "Apparently there was activity at point A, third window from the left…" I tell him. "I saw nothing, but you never know." I get up from the table, packing my gun and tucking it in the corner for later use.

Rue was tugging on Peeta's wrist, making him come down to her level. She whispers something in his ear that causes a blush to creep across his cheeks.

"You need the bucket?" he asks, even though we had commandeered a vacant house with what could be a bathroom.

"No, and I think the guy before me already used it… so good luck with that." My eyes were on the little girl. She was doe-eyed at the sight of me, but pulled out a bar of Hershey's chocolate from the pocket of her thin white over shirt and ate a few pieces.

"Ready?" Peeta asks as Rue takes his hand, chattering in Arabic. "Rue wants to show you around." The girl beams at me. She can't be more than ten years old and reminds me a lot of Prim at that age, wide-eyed and curious about everything around her. I check the safety on my rifle and hold it as per regulation - stock in my shoulder, one hand on the grip ready to shoot when needed.

"By all means, give me the tour," Peeta quickly translates for me. She switches from his hand to my arm, pulling me to the stairs.

"She asked me why there were no girls here today. I told her about you and she lit up," he tells me as Rue continues to babble. I eye every civilian on our route as Rue points out businesses, eventually stopping at what appears to be a general store.

"Her mom and dad ran this place before her mother passed," he explains. I watch Rue constantly fiddle with her hair before pulling Peeta down to her level again. She whispers in his ear once more, and he nods in reply.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask, fearful that I had offended the starry-eyed girl.

"She wishes she had pretty hair like yours." I thought back to my bun. A man came out of the store staring at us curiously, "That's her father…" Peeta explains. Now I really didn't know how to act.

"Can you ask him if it's okay if I braid his daughter's hair?" I dig in my belt for my spare hairbands, having broken my fair share over the years. Peeta asks, or I assumed he did and gives me the go ahead.

I didn't have a comb, but the girl's hair wasn't knotty at all. In fact, it was well taken care of. I work her waist-long hair into a simple braid, starting at the widow's peak and down her back before fastening it with a band.

"There you go… Now I wish I had pretty hair like you," I say, smiling as Peeta translates. Rue runs for the window of her father's shop and gasps before running back to hug me with her chocolate smeared hands.

"I think she likes it," Peeta says and smiles. I'd like to linger and spend more time with the girl, but we probably should get going. We walked through our quarter for the next four hours, taking a short break to eat a meal bar and nearly empty our camelbacks.

"Listen… about last night," he starts. "I should have just kicked you out. It was dumb of me, but we were both tired and after everything… I can't relate to your...situation, but still..." he huffs, trying to find the right words.

"Mellark?" I look up from my bar. Rue had since been called back to the shop with her father and it was just the two of us for the time being. Now seemed like a good time to lay down the ground rules. "We're friends, okay? We were tired and two people in that twin sized bed is a stretch. You also hit me… several times," I say, rubbing my cheek and smiling a little. "Don't make it awkward or it won't happen again."

He nudges me a little, "So you'll sleep with me again?"

I laugh, "We'll see, Sarge… we'll see." I took another bite of my bar, giving him a small sideways grin.


	6. The Storm

**Chapter 6 – The Storm**

_Day Two:_

I sit in the sniper's nest as always, peeking in people's windows. I watch as Cato and Clove rounded the corner, hardly paying attention to the world around them. I groan because I had confirmed there was an enemy watching through a window near them. It was an awkward shot, so I was keeping my fingers crossed that someone else with a better view would get it.

"Cato, Clove, watch your backs," I caution just as the window opens. I saw the metal barrel of a rifle; if only I was a building over, I could get a shot.

I wait patiently for what seems like hours before I see a head. I can't think, I refuse to think. I pull my trigger and see the man slump in the window. My breath catches in my throat - I had just ended someone's life.

"Target down," I inform them. "Maybe you should listen to me the next time I say _watch your backs_…"

The next few moments are tense, since combat could break out at the drop of a hat. Instead, a calm comes over our sector once again and I can finally breathe. My bullet didn't start a battle, _this time…_

_Day Three:_

Today was hotter today than anything I had ever felt before. I manage to empty both my canteen and my camelback just two hours into my patrol.

"Here…" Peeta offers me his, but I wave it off. "Katniss, you'll get dehydrated," he warns. There is disappointment in his voice, most likely from my lack of self-preservation instincts.

"_Peeta_," I groan, shaking the last drops of my canteen onto my dry lips. I hear the door to Rue's father's shop open. In his hands were two bottles of water, one for me and one for Peeta. I try to pay him, though I only have US currency.

The man shakes his head before looking to Peeta, saying something in Arabic that was far too fast for me to even attempt to understand. "He says take them for free as thanks for giving his daughter someone to look up to."

I smile and nod, "Shokran." I know my pronunciation is off, but the man nods in reply and returns to his shop after giving us a smile.

_Day Four:_

I hear Rue bounding up the stairs to the sniper's nest. "Careful!" Peeta scolds, as their footsteps shake the whole building. I look up from my rifle for just a second, since there appears to be activity in my line of sight.

Rue stands in her bare feet holding a disgruntled looking cat by the armpits. "She thinks you need company up here," Peeta starts as she set the cat down. The animal looks absolutely confused but paws around. He has a pure white body, except for his ears and tail which are tabby orange.

"One second…" I say, holding up my finger and adjusting my rifle ever so slightly. "Get her out of the room…" I look up at Peeta who nods, telling her hopefully that they'd should wait outside, but she refuses.

I look into her innocent eyes, who knows how many she's seen die already? Still, I feel the need to protect her. Then it hits me, that's exactly what I'm doing.

I pull the trigger, the rifle pushing back on my shoulder but making little to no noise. "Target down," I say over the radio, holding my breath as always, waiting for a battle to break out. I close my eyes letting my head drop so my helmet is on the table. I feel a small hand on my shoulder and something batting at my helmet. When I look up, the cat and I are eye to eye.

We named the cat Amal, which means hope in Arabic.

_Day Five:_

No more kills today, but Amal is at the top of my shit list. He's taken a liking to me and likes to nap under my rifle, hissing whenever I need to make an adjustment. I nudge him off the table at least five times during my four hour shift. He follows us on patrol.

There's a woman along our route who sells handmade jewelry and items she's come across during her travels. I always find myself perusing her merchandise for something I could give to Prim.

She gives me the one minute sign before digging through her robes and producing a circular pin. There was a bird in the center holding an arrow. She points up to the sniper's nest and makes a motion like holding a rifle before babbling and pinning it to my vest with a pat.

"She says you keep watch over her neighborhood from your hawk perch and keep the children safe from those who would do them harm," Peeta tells me. I examine the pin; it wasn't a hawk, but a jay.

"Shokran," she smiles and nods at me before going back to organizing her merchandise.

_Day Six:_

It's hot again today, so I brought an extra canteen. I decide to do this every day from now on. I've even started packing an extra few meal bars.

_Day Seven:_

We suffer a casualty in another sector. It's no one I know, but it seems to have upset Gale. We have a late dinner on base, covered in sweat and dirt. The wind has been brutal lately and there are talks about a dust storm coming. Though you can't actually predict one, the people of Fallujah still seem very concerned.

"Mitchell was a good guy," Gale grumbles, stabbing at his food as I downed my third glass of water. "He could shoot the dust off your boot at fifty yards." I open my mouth to speak, but he interjects, "With a handgun." I close my mouth and look up at Peeta, giving him an apologetic glance. "He's got a wife and two kids back home, one on the way, too." I put my fork down at these words. All I can think about is Prim. "That baby will _never_ know its dad," Gale finishes, pointing his fork in my direction.

"Prim barely knew our dad either…" I lament, before going back to my food. I'm sore, tired and want nothing more to do with this conversation. Prim was only six when our Dad passed, and she's eighteen now.

"Has it really been twelve years?" I whisper, finishing off my food. Peeta and Gale are wrapped up in their own conversation. It seemed friendly, but I knew that look in Gale's eyes… he was noticing the close relationship between Peeta and I, and felt apprehensive about it.

After dinner, I wash the sand and dirt from my body still unable to shake the sorrow I felt for the children who would never see their father again, or the wife that just lost the love of her life. That's why I could never marry, would never marry. I saw what my mother went through after my father was taken prisoner, and knew what that woman would face back in the States. Would someone be there to help her pick up the pieces?

"_Mom, please! Get out of bed! Mom!"_

I rinse the shampoo out of my hair and started washing my body.

"_Mom, please, we're hungry!"_

I dry myself off and put on my sweats before braiding my hair.

"_There's no food, Mom, please do something! Mom, don't just sit there, do something!"_

"Katniss?" I snap back to reality, where was I? "Katniss, you in there?" Peeta asks and I look up at him. He didn't ask any questions. He closes the door behind us quietly, leads me to his bed, and wraps his arms around my waist, holding me.

_Day Eight:_

I wake up in Peeta's bed less jumpy than before. We walk to breakfast together and eat in comfortable silence. He still hasn't asked me why I showed up at his door in tears the night before. Instead, he walks me up to the nest unwilling to leave, but duty calls. Maybe he feels the electricity in the air as well?

"I'll be fine," I promise him with a smile. Marvel was downstairs smoking; he seemed jumpy, but I pass it off as nerves. I unpack and position myself, taking a deep breath of the strange air, which feels tense and ready to ignite. My four hours were uneventful and soon enough, Marvel and I switch off.

"Where's Rue?" I ask as Amal weaves through my feet, threatening to trip me. "Damn cat…" I mumble. Peeta shrugs and drinks from his canteen, "I think working in the shop with her Dad…" I frown a little, missing her doe eyes.

"She wants to grow up and be like you…" he tells me as we walk along our patrol. "I haven't seen her yet today though…" Peeta looks off in the distance as we near her Dad's shop.

"Peeta! Katniss!" I hear Rue's voice call. She had been working on pronouncing our names but could only get our first ones down. I crouch down to receive her hug, as I've done every day for the last seven days, and she reaches into her tunic. I look up at Peeta just before I feel fire tear through my arm.

Joy is a strange thing - it's hard to come by and can be taken away in a flash. I watch it disappear from Peeta's face instantly, replaced by anguish and confusion. My arm grows wet, but it's the small weight I feel slumped against me that brings me back to reality, away from Peeta's hurt face.

"Rue!" Peeta cries as I drop to my knees. The small doe eyed girl's head is resting in my lap, her white tunic quickly turning red. Tears come to my eyes.

_No… No! This can't be…_

The doors open and we hear yelling. "This is going to get bad fast," Peeta warns. I'm shaking as I stare at the bleeding wound on the small girl's chest. I barely understand what Peeta means, because I can only focus on Rue. She was staring blankly at us, coughing up blood every few seconds.

"We're going to need back-up in Sector One. We have a civilian down, one injured," I hear someone say and look up. Peeta was perfectly fine, who was injured? I stroke Rue's braid, which I had done for her every morning over the last seven days, as her father yells and sobs next to his only child. He reaches for her, only to back away a few seconds later, unable to find the strength. Peeta was next to me in an instant, telling me to get my arm looked at but I shoo him away. I couldn't leave Rue, and my arm was fine anyway. She's the glimmer of hope that what I was doing was making a difference.

The glimmer that was fading fast, bleeding out on the frozen Fallujah street.

I know where she's hit… two inches off the kill zone, just at the top of her lungs. This wasn't a survivable wound, as the pulmonary artery and vein are right in that area. The pool of blood under her body was growing, and I knew once it reached a certain point there would be no saving her. My knees were already soaked in blood.

"It's okay…" I cry, stroking her cheek as her father continues yelling and sobbing. "You're okay…" I know she can't understand me, I know she's not okay, but I have to tell myself that. She pulls Peeta to her trembling lips as I brush tears from her eyes, both mine and hers.

"She wants to know if you can sing to her… Sing her to sleep." His voice is hallow, his eyes dark.

"I'm no good…" I cry.

"_Katniss!_" he pleads.

I look in her hopeful but still vacant eyes. Eyes that wanted to see the world, to read every book she could get her hands on and I begin singing, "Deep in the meadow… Under the willow…" I brush the loose strands of hair from her face and use my thumb to wipe blood from her mouth. "A bed of grass, a soft green pillow…" Her lips were trembling, her breaths nothing more than gurgling grasps. Peeta's hand was on her wrist, "Lay your head down, and close your eyes…" Her eyes were growing more and more unfocused as she stared straight into the sun. "And when they open, the sun will rise…" I can barely get the words out, but Peeta nods. Rue has stopped breathing and he lets go of her wrist.

I put my hands to my face and let out a scream. Feeling my own blood trickle down my arm, the pain finally hits me. I've been shot.

None of that matters, though. I see what Rue was reaching for, a tattered copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird. _We haven't moved much, barely at all, so I look up at the only possible place the shot could have come from - _the sniper's nest._

I hand Rue's dead body to her father, who is still wailing. I want to comfort him, tell him that everything will be okay, but I know I can't. Tunnel vision has already set in.

I hear Peeta call my name, and see Marines coming to take control of this now chaotic sector. It seems as though the second Rue's heart stopped beating, every shopkeeper and resident retreated inside their house. The only people remaining on the road now are threats to our safety. My entire sleeve is red with blood as I pick up the book and storm over to the nest.

Just like that, the air ignites in a frenzy of bullets.

"What the FUCK WAS THAT?" I yell at Marvel, who seems completely unaffected by this situation. Despite the yelling, chaos, and gunfire in the streets, yelling, he appears cool as a cucumber, sneering at me.

"She was coming at you reaching into her shirt! She could have had a-" It didn't seem like he was defending me, instead telling me how I should see what just happened.

"She walks with you and Mellark every morning!" I shout, holding out the book. "She was giving him this!" I wave it in my good arm, seeing as the other one has decided to stop working right.

"I was just-" He's calm, far too calm.

"Get the fuck out of my sight, Private," I holler, and he leaves wordlessly. I scream and knock over both the table and the piss bucket in an uncaring rage before slumping into a corner, screaming into my knees.

_Was this the cost of freedom?_

Once my fury subsides, I head down the creaky stairs that lead to the back of the house where our "bathroom" is, but not before tossing my helmet to the floor of the living space situated just before. I splash water on my face, still ignoring my arm. It burns, but is tolerable meaning he must have missed the bone.

I'm not exactly sure what happens next. I know I have to get back to combat. I had abandoned Peeta, though back-up was there fast. The last thing I remember hearing was the creaking of the floor as I stepped into the living space. A loud blast threw me to the ground before everything went black, although I wasn't unconscious. The rickety building had given way, trapping me in a large, dark yet open space. I attempt to cover my mouth while waiting for the dust to settle. There's debris everywhere, bits and pieces of the house splattering against my face. I see a gap in the wall that I could possibly escape through, but notice something is wrong when I try to stand. My leg is trapped under rubble and I'm too dizzy and weak to free myself.

_I'm going to die… I'm going to die here._

"Sergeant Everdeen, do you read me?" It's Peeta's voice, hallow but still panicked. My good arm is trapped under what looks like the remnants of a table and some of the celling that was once so high above my head. My shot arm is so weak, I can barely lift it to the microphone. It feels as though the bone's been turned to mush and my forearm flops to the side. I don't even have the strength to hit the call button. Peeta repeats himself several times, each time sounding more and more panicked.

_I'm going to die here…_


	7. As the Wind Howls

**Chapter 7 – As the Wind Howls**

Breathing is getting hard as the rubble from the house crushes my frame; everything has a strange haze around it. I'm pretty sure this is what they mean when they say you're "seeing stars".

I fight to stay conscious because staying awake means staying alive. I can hear the pop of gunfire in the distance, rapid and frantic.

"I'm sorry, Prim…" I whisper, staring into the darkness. "I'm sorry, Mom. First Dad, then me…" If I die, then at least I'll die for my country. After yelling at the man who killed an innocent girl and shot me at the same time then getting pinned under a building, it's a heroic way to go.

The earpiece remained active despite Peeta calling for me several times. People whose names I couldn't place with a face were injured, but no one from my division. "I'm hit!" I hear a man say. I know that voice, and my stomach sinks.

"Oh, Gale…" I cry, my voice barely a croak.

"_I'm going to find her!"_ I hear Peeta yell through the mic. No one stops him or even argues because they can surely hear the urgency in his voice. My heart skips a beat. Hope…is that what I'm feeling?

They say you never forget the face of the person who was your last hope… and now all I could think about was Peeta Mellark. All I could see was his cocky grin, and the smile that warmed my heart.

I lay there silent, barely able to breathe as I wait for Peeta to make the quarter mile trek from where I left him to the sniper's nest. It feels like an eternity.

I hear some of the rubble move and he curses. "Katniss!" he shouts, and I can hear the wind whistling. A storm is picking up - the dust storm the locals were preparing for, that apparently no one could have predicted, though everyone did.

"Peeta," I manage to call out over the wailing wind and the creaking of the house. Somehow he hears me, shining his flashlight into a hole just big enough for him to climb through. I wince when the light hits my eyes, but can't shy away from it.

I must be worse off than I thought, because the color quickly drains from his face. "Katniss…" His hand is on my cheek and I smile a little. Even though his face is grave, I'm feeling calm now. "I have to get this rubble off you," he says while moving pieces of heavy plaster, fragments of the floor and pieces of furniture off my chest. It's a huge relief because now I can breathe. He chucks the table leg that had been across my neck to the other side of the space. Next he goes for my legs, which have since gone numb from lack of blood. I'm able to look down now and see that a good portion of the ceiling is wedged down on my leg. He tucks his arms under my armpits and pulls me from the large chunk of house that has me pinned. I try to hold it in, but wail in pain as I feel my skin tear. Everything hurts, but nothing is bent at strange angles. I can only hope nothing is broken, though my pants quickly become slick with my blood.

Peeta situates me in his lap, holding my head close to his chest. _"Sergeant Mellark, report," _Major Abernathy orders. Based on the tone in his voice, we either suffered heavy casualties or he suspects I'm dead. Well… I feel pretty close to it.

"The subject has been located, over." I hear the beating of Peeta's heart, rapid but strong. I wonder what mine sounds like now. It would probably be uneven but still rapid, perhaps even weak.

"Status on the subject?"

I close my eyes, his heartbeat lulling me to sleep. "She's alive… Let's leave it at…" I feel him shake me, "Katniss! You can't close your eyes!" I grunt back at him and fight to stay awake. The gunfire has since stopped but the wind was getting worse, making the house creak above us.

"We have some bad news, kid. The dust storm is picking up so we have to evac ASAP." The Humvees are on the other side of town. Peeta's face grows dark. "Take cover and stay quiet; they'll be looking for captives…" Abernathy's voice is glum, as if he just handed us our death sentences.

Peeta's jaw tenses as everything sinks in. We wouldn't be rescued until after the storm passed. There's barely enough food between the two of us to last a day, and our water supply is also limited.

"Understood…" is all Peeta says, and for the second time today there are tears in his eyes. I bring my hand up and brush the tears away, only to smear blood on his cheeks.

"Sorry…" I whisper.

Peeta removes his helmet and backpack, using them to give me something to lean up against. He uses rubble to board up the hole, camouflaging our location so no one can see in.

The new ceiling is low, only about five feet off the ground and at a pretty steep angle. It forces him to crawl over to me as I gasp for breath, afraid that each one would be my last.

"I'm so tired…" I whisper as he shines a light in my eyes.

"You're not allowed to be tired, you have to keep me company tonight," he gulps, brushing some hair out of my face. He shines the light in my eyes again and sighs. "Your left eye isn't responding, you may have a concussion." He starts unstrapping my pack and puts it to the side along with my vest and his jacket.

"Maybe that's why everything's… glowy," I say with a faint smile, trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn't help. I can see the blood on his clothing. "Rue's…" I whisper, touching his bloody knees. He just nods, but he isn't here to mourn because every movement is deliberate. He's on a mission.

"I have to get your shirt off, Katniss. I'm going to lay you down so I can make sure you're not bleeding internally." I nod, wincing as he shifts me again. He unbuttons my jacket since I'm too weak to do it myself, then removes my Kevlar and lifts the sweaty t-shirt from my bruised frame. He lays me down gingerly, smoothing out my hair. His touch is comforting and some of the anxiety I'm feeling is alleviated as he brushes the hair from my eyes.

His eyes are fixated on my arm. I somehow find the strength to lift my head and look at it. At first glance, it looks like a jagged slash. "Marvel…" he just nods. The only first aid Peeta has available is a tourniquet and quikclot. Either of these two options would quite possibly result in me losing my arm. Though the wound is barely bleeding now, it's still filthy and at risk of infection.

All of a sudden, I remember and begin speaking, "In my belt… Uh… Pack… First… Aid Kit…" He pulls my pack into his lap as I choke out the words, "Big pocket… Left side." He pulls out the small white box, which contains a bottle of alcohol, first aid cream, a small bottle of saline for eye injuries and a ton of bandages and gauze. He grabs the saline in his hand since the dirt needs to be flushed from the gash first before it can be treated. "Might as well," he says. Over the howling wind and the creaking building, I can hear yelling in Arabic. If they find us, we'll surely be taken prisoner and be killed or tortured. I know it will hurt, but we have to keep quiet.

He lays my arm out across his lap and unscrews the top of the saline. There are only a few ounces, so hopefully it's enough to free the gash of gritty dirt and sand. "Ready?" he asks. I nod, feeling the cool sensation of the saline cleaning the dirt and grime from my wound, but there isn't enough. We're going to have to switch to alcohol. I look up at him, barely able to hide my fear of what's coming next.

I'm sure I look pathetic as Peeta works to save my arm, digging feverishly through the kit, still on a mission. I watch as a bead of sweat runs from his ashy blonde hair down his forehead. He ignores the trickle running down the side of his face, now scrunched in concentration. "Here we go…" he says, pulling out a sandy colored piece of fabric tightly packaged in clear plastic.

It's a triangular bandage used for making a sling. He tears the plastic away with his teeth before shoving it into my mouth. "Bite down," he tells me, unscrewing the alcohol and dumping a fair amount in the bullet wound. I see white and feel fire. Tears come to my eyes and my half numb legs kick as I thrash around in an effort to get away from the pain. He holds me in place, using tweezers to remove the remaining rubble from the gash. I fight to keep conscious. Conscious means alive for one more moment, but the pain is awful. Peeta's face is scrunched up as he works, though I can barely see him through my tear stained eyes.

_Make it stop, please make it stop!_ He's holding me, cooing quietly that it'll be all over soon before dumping more alcohol on the wound. I throw myself into him trying to escape, but he pushes me back down. He releases my arm for a brief second before smearing a generous amount of first aid cream on a square of gauze and pressing it to my arm, then bandaging it tightly.

I spit out the folded up sling, panting as the pain subsides. Peeta removes the earpiece as his face grows dark again. "Blood…" he mouths, taking another piece of gauze and pressing it to my ear, then shining the flashlight on it. It's a test to see if spinal fluid is leaking out. I've never been so relieved to only see blood leaking from my ears. He uses a small amount of alcohol on the pad to clean a cut on my forehead that was leaking blood into my hair. He bandages it up, tying a knot in the back of my head to keep it secure. He works silently as I watch his every move, completely admiring his calm given our situation.

"I'm so tired…" I sob. I just want to sleep.

"I know, I know," he mumbles. His hands are on my ribs as he feels for breaks, moving slowly and methodically from my armpits to my waist, taking notice of whether my breaths are even. "Tell me a story," he pleads, both wanting and _needing_ to keep me awake.

I'm not sure where the memory comes from, maybe the concussion. "We danced together at our senior prom," I start, and he looks up from palpating my abdomen, shocked. "What… you think I forgot?" I ask, mustering the best smirk I could manage given the situation.

He takes off my pants next. In any other circumstance, this would be a huge violation of my personal rules. "Boy shorts?" he asks with a smirk, admiring my matching underwear. I keep talking though, ignoring the deep gash on my thigh.

"Madge made me go. I didn't want to, but I was enlisting soon and she wanted to get one last hurrah out of me. Apparently Prom is _something_ normal teenagers do," I say hoarsely. He doesn't look at me, instead giving my sore hips a tight squeeze, feeling for breaks. "She let me borrow a dress that was too small for her. It was light orange and short, went mid-thigh…" His hand pauses. "Right where your hand is, it had a jeweled band right across my waist. The skirt was made of layers of the fabric, a light orange material with pink and yellow pieces mixed in. Madge said when you spun me around, I looked like I was on fire…"

I don't know how, but I remember the night like it was yesterday. I ball up my fist, grabbing as much dirt and rubble as I could while he poured alcohol into the gash on my leg before wrapping it. My mind was less focused on the wound so I didn't need the bite block, but still hissed in pain causing him to stiffen. My eyes started tearing up as he felt down the length of my legs, telling me to push down on his hands then pull up with my feet. I'm sitting in my underwear crying like a baby, my mouth running before my brain could tell it to shut up.

"I had the biggest crush on you since grade school, but I was so shy I couldn't tell you. When I found out you were joining the Marines, too, I thought, 'What a good conversation starter, I'm enlisting soon too!' That seemed stalkerish, so Madge marched right up to you and told you to ask me to dance. I didn't have a date, since half of the school thought I was a weirdo and the other half a bitch. I never thought you'd go for it…but sure enough, you marched right up to me," I sniffle, wiping the tears from my eyes with my good arm. "It's so stupid… I can't even remember the song, but I can remember the look on your face, how you smelled, how your hand felt on my lower back… I just can't hear the song…"

The only noise in our little crawl space was the howling of the wind and the creaking of the protective rubble "Kiss me…" he finally says.

I look up at him. "Peeta, this is hardly the time to make out," I say, laughing a little.

"We danced to Kiss Me, by Sixpence None the Richer. It was a little fast, but I had wanted you in my arms for so long I was willing to settle…" he sighs, resting his arm on his bent up knee. "I never did find the courage to kiss you," he mutters, sitting down next to me, a dumbfounded look on his face.

And here we are. Me in my underwear, covered in bandages except my on surprisingly unaffected torso, him soaked in Rue's blood. We're trapped in a collapsed house while the enemy searches for us and a dust storm rages above. I lean into him. Even though it was hot, I was freezing. Peeta wraps his arms around me, though we both reek of sweat, dirt and blood. It doesn't matter, however, because for all we know this could be our last night. There were still voices outside, yelling. Our flashlight was off and the only light was coming from a crack in the "ceiling". I look up at Peeta, his face dark and determined. He reaches and grabs his gun from its holster. He hands me his rifle, and we wait.

They're right outside the boarded up hole he crawled through to get in. Peeta holds me close and strokes my hair, keeping the gun trained on the hole as I wrap my bad arm around him for support. I lean the rifle against my good shoulder and aim for the same spot as him. If we're going down here, we're not going down without a fight.

The sun sets and our little hole grows dimmer and dimmer. The wind picks up a bit more at some point, plugging our only light source with sand. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust in order to see the outline of my gun, but the voices are gone. The only noises left are our haggard breathing and the creaking of the collapsed house.

"They're gone…" he whispers, lowering his weapon and taking mine from me.

"What were they saying?" I ask. He shakes his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know. Let's get you dressed," he says, putting my pants on as I strain to get my shirt on. There's a long tear along most of the right leg where I can see the gauze, spotted with blood. He holds me again once my boots are on and hands me a canteen. "Don't chug it, this may have to last us a few days…" he says glumly. I don't even want to think about our food situation. He checks our camelbacks which are almost full, a small blessing.

"What happened?" I finally ask. I need to know what transpired after I left and ended up trapped under a building.

He sighs and kisses the top of my head. I wanted to shy away, but who knew if we would survive this night? At any moment, the rest of the building could collapse or someone could find us. Instead, I enjoy his touch, his smell, his voice.

"After Rue died… after you left, a local started firing, or at least I think they did. It was chaos…"

"I heard Gale say he was hit… Is he okay?"

Peeta shrugs and sighs, "I can't say, Katniss… I knew I had to find you… I didn't stick around long enough to see." He strokes my bloody hair.

I nod, wanting to distract myself from Gale's situation, "Let's take an inventory…" I turn my watch over on my wrist and hit the button on the side to illuminate the screen. It's the only light safe enough to use.

We both empty our packs and lay out our canteens. "We both carry extras, so we have some extra water… five meal bars, two MRE's, wait…" He digs through his pants pockets and produces two more meal bars, and I find one in my pants pocket that's smashed. "You need more food, you take the MRE's," he pleads, but I shake my head.

"You need to keep up your strength. If they find us and you're malnourished, we're both good as dead." He wants to argue, but he snaps his mouth closed. For now, I've won this round.

"What time is it?" he finally asks. I check my watch but frown in frustration.

I can't read the numbers… I recognize them, but I can't understand what they mean. "Can you tell me?" I hold out my arm for him.

"1900..._ish._" He holds his arms out again for me and I eagerly curl up on his side.

"Do you want to sleep?" he asks, knowing the answer. He shifts to lay down, our jackets and Kevlar functioning as pillows. "Give me your wrist," he commands. I do and he starts playing with the watch. "There, the timer will go off in an hour. You're not going to like it, but I have to make sure you don't slip into a coma…" I nod in understanding.

We lay there cuddled up against one another, listening to the creaking of our prison/shelter before he finally speaks. "That night before our first day out here was the best sleep I've had since coming to Iraq…" he confesses. I look up and smile a little.

"Mine too…" Some things just happen, while some things are unavoidable. My lips crashing onto Peeta's is one of them. He freezes for a second, and I realize I've crossed the line, opening a door that should have remained closed. But I couldn't help myself, I _had_ to know.

Finally, his arms encircle me, gingerly rubbing my bruised and sore back as he deepens the kiss. I feel his tongue brush up against my lips, so I gladly part mine for him. I rest too much weight on my wounded arm and cry into his mouth. He jerks away at the sound, concern written all over his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, repositioning me so I can rest without pain. With my head on his chest again, I fall asleep listening to his slow, rhythmic heartbeat.

But every hour on the hour, Peeta would shake me awake.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen, I'm twenty two years old, I'm from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, I'm in the United States Marine Corps, I'm a Staff Sergeant with the 74th Battalion, I'm a sniper," I rattle off, waiting for his next question. Each hour brought a different one. He started with my name, then let me go back to sleep. The next hour my age, then where we were from, et cetera. Each question got a little more complicated, forcing me to draw on deeper parts of my memory. I count six questions, six hours… or was it seven? We were definitely on the seventh hour, sometime in the middle of the night.

"Peeta…" I nudge him a little, preventing him from going back to sleep. "I'm hungry," I say, biting my lip as he sits both of us up. We're afraid to already dip into our precious food supply, though we should be more concerned about the water.

He pulls the MRE closer, "Share?" I hesitate and grab a bar.

"I want your hot sauce and bread…even if it's not the Cheez-its," I complain. He rolls his eyes and opens the package for me.

"You eat so much hot sauce," he laughs as I put Tabasco on the already spiced bread. "You use at least one a meal!" I roll the tiny bottle in the pads of my fingers before biting into my bread.

I sipped at my water as I chewed, making the food go down easier.

"You know… It's funny," he begins. I look up confused. We had since turned the flashlight on, but placed his shirt over it to lessen the light. "I know you'd risk your life for me… But I don't even know your favorite color."

"Green…" I tell him, without hesitation.

"Green…" he echoed. "Like camo?" he teases, shoveling more food into his mouth.

"No… like..." I pause, trying to explain, "The leaves in early spring and the grass, that bright lively green." I smile, thinking of the old oak in the front yard of my family's home. I can see the swing attached to a low straight limb that my dad used to push me on. I wonder if the new owners ever tore it down.

"Yours?" I ask.

"Orange," he says, without hesitation.

"Like… caution cone orange?"

"Nah… that's too bright. More subdued… like your prom dress…" I blush a little and take another bite. Since my headache is basically gone and my pupils are both responding to light, Peeta decides to let me sleep for a few hours at a time.

Since the wind was still howling, we agree that both of us should sleep for three hours. Peeta switches off the flashlight and tugs his shirt back on before pulling me back into his arms. I nuzzle into his chest, once again falling asleep to the slow beating of his heart.


	8. The Dust Settles

**Chapter 8 – The Dust Settles**

I stir awake to the beeping of my alarm, my fingers tightly clutched around what I could only assume to be Peeta. "Hey…" I yawn, still exhausted. "Hey…" I whine, shaking him awake.

"What's your name?" he yawns.

"Katniss Everdeen."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two,"

"Where do you live?"

"Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania… Wait, no…" I huff and lay back down, "Washington, DC." There was a strong gust of wind that made every inch of our shelter creak.

Peeta's arms wrap around me, holding me close. If we were going down, it would be like this but the shelter didn't give way…

Each time this happened, we'd look at each other and laugh nervously before one of us would lean in and kiss the other. We ate again and sipped at some water before trying to find something to entertain ourselves.

"I might still have a deck of cards in my pack…" I say groggily, the migraine from my concussion becoming almost unbearable. "We could play war," I chuckle, pulling my good leg in and resting my forehead against it. The room was starting to spin again.

"You're burning up…" he says, feeling my forehead. The sun must have risen at this point, heating the space to a sauna-like temperature. There's a weak, hot draft coming through every few minutes, just enough to cycle the air.

"It is like a hundred degrees in here…" I went for my button fly and began stripping, much to Peeta's amusement. "What? It's hot in here, plus it's not like you haven't seen me in my underwear before." I use my good arm to lift myself up and sit on my pants. I give him a quick smile before removing my shirt and pressing the canteen to my chest.

"If someone asked me from the time I was fourteen on if I thought I'd see you in your underwear, I'd have laughed in their faces," he smirks, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning against the wall.

"Please… I wasn't anything special… as a kid, as a teenager, or now as an adult." I take the cards out of my pack and begin shuffling. I'm not even sure why I have them, just some absent thought weeks ago to shove the deck in.

"I'm guessing you didn't know this," he says, "But your name or something about you was written in almost every bathroom stall… At least the men's, can't say anything about the girls."

I freeze up. "Yeah, they were probably calling me weird or something." I bridge the cards and tap them until they're even.

He shrugs. "There was one… but it received such a negative response," I go to deal the cards, our faces only lit up by the dim flashlight.

"Sure, Peeta… The entire school that seemed to avoid me like the plague secretly wanted me." We flip our first cards. I get an eight, he gets a nine and takes the set.

"Like I said, I can only speak for the men's rooms. War." I look down, there are two kings looking up at us.

"W-A-R, War." I flip a jack, him a four.

"If that's the case, why did I eat alone almost every day? Or work on my projects alone or…"

"You're intimidating, Katniss!" I look at him, confused. "A lot of guys, especially at that age don't want a girl who can fend for herself. They want to be the one she runs to. You see a challenge and run straight for it, always coming out on top." I look at our surroundings, smirking, and taking the next three sets of cards before Peeta hits a winning streak.

"Have you seen where we are? I didn't come out on top of this building," He just shrugs as he takes my final card, a queen.

My headache finally gets the best of me. Even though it's sweltering, I find my way into Peeta's arms, waking up only after it's grown much darker and cooler in the crawl space. Peeta snores peacefully next to me as I dress myself once more and return to the position we were previously in.

We were lucky. Actually, lucky didn't even begin to cover it. We had managed to sleep through not only the night, but the remainder of the dust storm. I would have slept more if it wasn't for the stream of light beating down perfectly in my eyes.

Suddenly, I hear a voice not too far away. Fear grips me, but I could understand the language. I sigh in relief before scrambling up, ignoring the pain that rolled over every inch of my body. "Sergeant Mellark, report," the voice says. These were short range radios, barely reaching the edge of the base.

"T-this is Sergeant Everdeen, sir," I reply in a quiet voice.

"What is your status?" Abernathy's voice was lighter this time.

"One injured, one asleep. It's getting kind of stuffy under this building, though," I confirm as the channel goes quiet.

"We can leave you there, you know. We'll come get Mellark, you can stay," Odair teases.

I laugh a little, the breaths making my ribs ache while my brain feels like it wants to make a jail break from my skull. I move too quickly and fall backwards onto Peeta, managing to stay conscious long enough for him to startle awake.

I woke up a short while later, propped up against Peeta's backpack once more, hearing voices outside. At first, I was panicked and wanted to lunge for my gun. "Everdeen, Mellark!" they yell. Peeta moves to the boarded up hole immediately. He threw a look back at me, a grin on his face.

"Here!" we shout, though my voice was barely above a whisper. Peeta starts tearing at the rubble which kept our location concealed. I cover my face with my good arm as the light pouring in made my headache worse. Peeta picks me up, not trusting me to climb out on my own. I reach out as Peeta passes me through the hole into Thresh's arms, then grabs the rest of our supplies.

"Where's everyone else...?" I choke out as I'm laid onto a backboard. Thresh tells me nothing as they strap me in and carry me the short distance to our Humvee. I steal one final glance at the building I had just spent the last day trapped under. It was a mess of twisted metal and broken walls. No one should have survived that collapse… though for some reason, I did.

I discover a new sore spot at each bump on the way back to Dreamland. Peeta was seated by my head, his hand brushing against my cheek every so often to tell me he was still there.

I passed out at some point, because the next thing I knew I woke up to the slow beeping of a heart monitor. "There she is…" a soothing voice says. I felt tugging on the skin of my leg. I attempt to move, but two firm hands press down on my shoulders.

"Easy there, sweetheart, let the woman stitch you up," Abernathy says as I open my eyes.

"I didn't think it was in your job description to babysit injured Sergeants…" My throat was so dry the words barely escape, but the old man's eyes light up.

"I made an exception…" he affirms, releasing his iron grip on my shoulders. Whatever they were using to numb my legs was wearing off because I felt every single push of the needle.

"Where's Mellark?" I ask, wincing, while trying to take a peek at my leg.

Abernathy crossed his arms over his chest, "Giving his testimony, hopefully," he grunts. "While you were relaxing in that hole, Corporal Cresta came forward about a plan between Marvel, Cato, Clove and Glimmer to start something in Fallujah. Cato was the one who started firing yesterday, though Glimmer and Clove weren't far behind. They've been dishonorably discharged and are on a plane back to the States. Marvel is in custody facing murder charges." I nod, soaking all of the new information in. "We don't take that shit lightly, you know. If you want, we could even tack on an attempted murder charge," he pokes at my stitched up arm, making me wince.

"No… That's fine," I reply. I'm only in my underwear and sports bra. The nurse throws the blanket over my legs, finally covering me.

"You have a concussion, so you'll be staying here for observation tonight and maybe tomorrow night as well. Four bruised ribs, twelve stitches in your arm, twenty in this leg of yours. They should heal nicely, though. That boy took good care of you," the nurse confirms.

My heart sinks. I'm yet again in Peeta Mellark's debt, a position I loathed. Not because it was him, but because I basically owe him my life.

She puts her gloved hands on my face and examines my forehead. She went for a tray, producing a small needle. "This one's going to need stitches, too." Without warning, she pushes the needle into the thin skin of my forehead, the medication causing it to numb.

The Major was occupying the metal chair next to my hospital bed. "We got word that they're moving a good chunk of us to Baghdad," he tells me. I nod, wincing a little.

"Hold still!" the nurse hissed.

"Who's going?" I ask.

"You, Mellark, Cresta, Odair, myself, Hawthorne too, though they're thinking about sending you and Hawthorne home." I jerk up, the suture kit hanging from my forehead.

_I can't leave Peeta…_

"No! You can't do that! I refuse!"

He smirked first, then burst out laughing, "Which is why when they handed me your discharge papers, I tore them up. Hawthorne's, too. We need snipers," he affirms. The nurse pushes me back down so she could finish stitching my forehead. "Well… I'm going to leave, you seem busy." The chair creaks as he rises and I hear his footsteps get quieter and quieter.

"You're going to have some scar on this pretty face of yours, not to mention your arms and legs," she says, and I huff a little, here it comes. "You're going to ruin your body that way." Military nurses aren't known for being kind and caring. "If you were my daughter… Wooh."

"But I'm not. I'm the daughter of a nurse and a Marine whose footsteps I'm following in," I tell her matter-of-factly.

She just smiles and cut off the thread in my forehead. "You rest up, we'll be bringing food in soon," I sigh and forced myself to sit up as she leaves. I'm tired, but not enough to sleep.

The curtain is drawn around my bed giving me some privacy, as I was the only injured female in this ward. I pull my uncut leg to my chest and hug it, feeling isolated in my little tomb.

"Catnip," I hear Gale whisper before the curtain draws for me to see the bed next to mine. "Finally decided to wake up from your cat nap, huh?" I roll my eyes and wipe the dampness from them.

"What?" I ask, noting the concern all over his face.

"Your face," he says. I touch my cheek feeling the tenderness, wincing slightly. I grab a hold of the metal tray left by my opinionated nurse and I look at myself in the shiny metal. There's a deep bruise under my right eye and down my cheek, stitches in my forehead from my eyebrow to my hairline, and dirt smudged all over me. I let down the remnants of my braid and run my fingers through my hair, bits of debris falling.

"So I need a shower," I confirm. "You're not looking too hot yourself, you know."

He chuckles and sits up, his arm in a sling. "We were pushing back to your location, then…" he motions to his arm, "It missed the joint, just a flesh wound. Doc says they'll have me up and running in a week or so. You, on the other hand, should have taken them up on their offer…"

I cross my arms over my chest. "No!" I snap back, immediately regretting my tone. "I can't…" I say, looking away, Gale huffs and throws a pillow at me.

"Stubborn as a mule… as _always_," he grumbles. I smile, though the upturning of my cheeks made me wince.

"'S'been a while since we've had a sleep over…" he laments. Gale's and my relationship might seem romantic on the outside. All of our affection for one another, however, was strictly platonic, like the fondness a younger sibling has for his or her older sibling.

_I left at nine am for Philadelphia… ten hours from now. My bags were packed and in the morning, I would leave for Basic. A million 'what if's' swirling around my head, I finally decided to get up and go for a walk. My brain led me straight to the sturdy pine I used to climb into Gale's bedroom so many times. His light was off, but I knew he'd still be awake. I was an expert at climbing this tree, a master even. I knew every branch, every knot, everything._

_I slid his window up, still missing the screen I knocked out so many years ago. There he was, shoving a pair of socks in his bag._

"_Was wondering when you would show up," he smirked. "I set the alarm for seven so you could head back in enough time." He tossed me a grey t-shirt and shorts before turning around so I could change._

_We didn't say anything as we climbed into bed together, there was no need. As I hid in his arms, he kissed me first on the forehead, then lightly on the lips._

And I felt nothing. It was nothing like kissing Peeta, or every time he kissed my forehead and cheek. Whenever Peeta and I kissed, I only felt a hunger for more.

"Your boy's fine," Gale teases, causing me to blush.

"Peeta's not my _boy_, he saved my life…" I lift the blanket up a little to examine the stitches on my leg. It wasn't terrible, though I'd definitely have a "battle scar" up most of my thigh.

I heard the other side of the curtain _woosh _open. Upon looking up, I pull the thin white sheet to my chest. "Katniss…" Peeta breathes, crossing the distance between us before pulling me into a tight hug which I reciprocated, tighter than his though because he didn't have damaged ribs.

"Thank you…" I whisper. It wasn't enough, and it would never be enough. This man pulled me out from under a building and cared for me while we were entombed in the remnants during a dust storm.

"You would do the same for me," he murmurs. He was right - I would, though unlike him, I'd probably freeze up. He has a bundle in his arms. "I'd give you these now, but you still have rubble in your hair." I glare at him. I could smell myself, sweaty with the faint aroma of dirt and blood.

I take his hand in mine, knowing we only have a short while until the affection we shared in our rubble tomb would fade into memory once we returned to our duties. Peeta doesn't shy away from my touch, giving my bandaged hand a light squeeze. "They're sending us to Baghdad," I say with fear in my voice. Baghdad wasn't an all-out war zone, but much more chaotic than Fallujah.

"_You_ should go back to the States, look at you," he says, smiling a little as he looks me over. The blanket is still pulled up from examining my leg, leaving me in front of him in my underwear for the second time in two days. I don't feel self-conscious though, even with my split lip, black and blue face, and stitches holding my limbs together.

"Told you so!" Gale laughs from his bed. I return his pillow to him a little harder than I should have.

"Major Abernathy threw out the papers to send me home," I grin. "You're stuck with me." Peeta musses my greasy hair before tucking a piece behind my ear. "Gale's too. Apparently Baghdad needs more snipers."

A nurse came by to check the stitches in my leg, drawing the curtain around the small space again, giving Peeta and I some pseudo privacy. She took my hand in hers, removing the IV that was hydrating me.

"Doc says you're free to move around once you get dressed. He advises you get showered and will be sending in someone to make sure you don't pass out in there."

"I don't need a babysitter…" I argue.

"Sergeant Everdeen, perhaps you shouldn't argue," Peeta cautions, the professional wall going back up between us, only his fingers were still laced with mine. Did she notice? Did he forget to let go?

"She's in giving testimony, so you have about a half hour." The nurse pushes her way through the curtain to address Gale. "Sergeant Hawthorne, Doc says you're free to go to your meal, though you should be back by 2000 so someone can examine your arm."

"Yeah, yeah…" There was some rustling as Gale pokes his head in, "Hey Mellark," he greets, which Peeta returns still holding my hand. "Anything you want from your room, Katniss?"

"My shower tote, some underwear and my computer," I reply, looking around for a plug. There was one perfectly situated nearby so I could keep my laptop plugged in all night. Gale nods and leaves after securing the curtains.

The silence between us was uncomfortable for once. "Katniss," Peeta starts in his all too cautious voice as if treading on eggshells, "I understand if everything you said yesterday was from your concussion, I just want you to know…" he pauses, sorrow in his eyes.

"Kiss me…" I whisper so no one can hear. He doesn't hesitate. At first, his lips are cautious before his hand intertwines with the dirty hair at the back of my head. He leans into me only slightly as to not cause any unneeded pain. The feeling was indescribable, his intoxicating taste drawing me in more. I grew eager, demanding more of his mouth, but we pulled away from each other upon hearing a noise in the medical ward.

I blush a little and bite my lower lip, wincing as I put my tooth into a stitch. "Ouch," I hiss, touching my finger to where it hurt. It grew damp with blood, but I shrug it off.

"What do we do?" I ask quietly.

How could we expect to continue as we had before? He brings a tissue up to my lip, blotting the blood off my chin. Suddenly, I was aware of everything - my stitches, my hideous bruise, and how absolutely filthy I was.

"What do you mean?" I narrow my eyes, he knows exactly what I mean…

"Don't play coy with me, boy," I poke at his side. "Clearly, we can't be _just friends._" Was I asking him out?

He opens his mouth to speak, but the curtain opens. "Sergeant Everdeen, I was told to bring you these," It's Cresta, holding everything I asked for from Gale. "And to 'make you don't fall on your ass in the shower.'"

Peeta stands up, torn between staying with me and running for the hills. He holds my shoulder for a second before speaking, "You get washed up; I'll bring you back some food." I let out the breath that I was holding in and nod, trying to get up. As my bare feet hit the ground, my concussion and stitches get the best of me. My knees and jelly-like legs give out, but Peeta is there instantly to catch me.

"I'm fine," I say before he can ask, and he leaves. Grabbing the hospital gown folded at the foot of my bed, I tie it around myself with some help as Cresta sets down my computer and picks up my clothes, "I can-" I start, but she interrupts.

"Oh no, ma'am, don't worry," she says, smiling sweetly. _How much did she see with those bright eyes?_

The water stings the various scrapes and shallow cuts covering my body. I was far more bruised than I originally thought – the deep purple and even some black giving me almost giraffe-like spots. The shower water runs off me in a rusty brown color, then just brown, and finally clear as the blood and dirt leave my body. I gingerly wash my hair, cursing as stream of water shoots perfectly into the stitches on my forehead.

"Everything okay?" Annie asks. Her back was turned, though I told her she didn't have to act so awkward.

I hiss a little, now there was soap in my stitches. "Yeah, fine, it just… stings…" Washing my body was another challenge in itself. There's still a fair amount of dried blood in the crevices of my skin and because of my ribs, bending over was almost impossible. My injured leg made crouching impossible as well. I finally decide to lift my leg up on the metal bar that ran along the showers. I teeter on my toes, grasping onto the bar every so often to prevent myself from falling on my face.

"Cresta…" I start, wringing out my hair. "Why didn't you tell anyone that something was going to happen?"

I watch her stiffen as she grasps her ponytail, "I um… well… I didn't think they would do anything. They were just joking, you know?" She sighs. "Well… I guess not." I pat my stitches dry and dress myself. "I didn't know that Marvel was going to kill the little girl, I don't think he did, either…"

I wince when they shine the little flashlight in my eyes for what must have been the hundredth time. "Ah, there we go, her pupils are reacting, she's cleared to stay." Was that it? If my eyes were still buggy, I'd be sent home?

I look over at Peeta sitting in the corner of the room. He returned shortly after I finished my shower. We still couldn't talk, though, since the doctor and nurse were buzzing around me checking my stitches, reapplying ointment, and checking my eyes.

"I'm fine, really," I tell them. The doctor was examining my arm.

"You're going to have to pass your sniper test again. They've decided to bundle in your counter sniper exam with the sniper since we don't have the time or resources," he explains.

I nod. "Wait, what?" I snap. "I got a cut on my arm and a bump on the head, I'm perfectly fine."

"Sorry, Everdeen, just policy." I huff, and Peeta shoots me an apologetic glance. "To be fair, Hawthorne does, too."

"Yeah, but he had _metal in his shoulder_."

The doctor chuckles, "And you had a building on top of you. It's just protocol, Sergeant Everdeen." Once I was slathered in Neosporin and had a light shined in my eye at least three more times, Peeta and I are left alone.

"Katniss," he starts, pulling his chair next to my bed. His hand finds mine and our fingers lace together. "We can't walk around here holding hands and kissing. If we want to start something together, we'll have to sneak around, at least until we get back to the States." I nod slightly. "Or they'll separate us like they did with Finnick and Annie…" _Well, kind of… they found a way around that._ "But you're right - I doubt we can go back to being 'just friends' after everything," he finishes. I nod slowly and lean back into my bed, smiling faintly.

"We should have done this years ago," I chuckle before hearing footsteps approaching the enclosed space. I pull my hand away and Peeta brings his to his lap before the curtain is pushed open.

The nurse is holding a needle. "Tetanus," she smiles, wiping my arm with alcohol and pushing the needle into my arm. Once she's gone, I open up my computer to check my email.

"Good… no one called home," I sigh in relief. The only email I have is from my mother telling me that she and Prim are moving in two weeks.

Peeta leans his head over and rests it on my shoulder so I bring my hand up to his hair. "You still need a haircut," I tease. He just looks at me and shrugs.


	9. The Gambit

**Chapter 9 – The Gambit**

Gale didn't come back to the medical ward, as he was technically free to sleep in his own room. After Peeta left for guard duty, which he'll serve with Cresta until I'm cleared, I feel isolated.

I consider opening Skype to get a hold of Prim, but she makes the decision for me as soon as I turn my computer on.

_Skype - Receiving Call from Primrose_

I select voice only. "Hey, Prim," I wave.

"I can't see your face, Katniss. Is something wrong with your camera?"

"No, little duck. Promise not to freak, okay?"

"I'm not promising anything, Katniss…" I hit the button to turn on my webcam. "What happened? Are those stitches? Katniss, what did you do?"

"I told you not to freak! It's nothing! I was hit by a stray bullet… then a building fell on top of me."

"A… What! That was you? There was a reporter in Fallujah saying there was combat and two Marines were missing. Mom knew it was you, she knew!" Her voice was increasing in pitch.

"Prim! Calm down, I'm fine. Just a few stitches and this," I explain, pointing to the bruises on my cheeks. "I'll be up and running in a few days." I decide not to tell her about the concussion, as I'm not sure the speakers on my computer could handle that octave.

"_Katniss_!" she whines in that pleading voice I knew so well.

"Let's talk about you. How's school going?"

"School's fine… A building fell on you?" she asks, her voice calmer now. I guess knowing I'm alive was all she needed.

"Yeah… I still don't know how, but I was thrown back and when I came to, I was pinned under rubble," I shrug, pawing at my stitches on my leg, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

"How long were you down there?" her voice is laggy, due to satellite internet being unpredictable.

"Like… almost a day?" I answer. My hand is now at my arm, remembering the fire from the original injury, then the alcohol in it.

"Pinned under rubble… How were you not crushed?" She leans forward, her pixelated face curious. I'm safe, so I guess I can tell her how I almost died.

"Someone came and found me…" I sigh, remembering the relief I felt when I first heard Peeta's voice, "And took care of me while we were stuck down there," I smile faintly.

"You like him!" my sister teases, pointing a finger at me through the camera.

"What? Well…" I groan, bringing my hands to my face. Girl talk was so foreign to me. "Yes, okay, I _like_ him. I've _liked_ him since we were kids…"

"Uh huh…." It took a second for my words to register on Prim's face. "Wait… you've only had one crush since you were a kid…" I just smile and I'm sure it's a dopy one. "Is that even allowed? Are you going to get in trouble? Katniss!"

"It's fine, Prim. Listen, I have to get some sleep. My head's pounding and I think the nurse wants me to lie down." She nods.

"I love you, Katniss. Be safe!"

"I will, and good luck with the move. Hopefully this one will be permanent…"

The medical staff wake me up every few hours to make sure my brain isn't oozing out my ears until I force myself to stay awake at 0700.

"Can I leave today?" I ask hopefully. It's lonely and quiet in here and I'm always fearful to see someone coming in on a stretcher.

The nurse smiles and takes my blood pressure, "That's not up to me, it's-"

"Here, sweetheart," Major Abernathy tosses a white blouse, navy pants with a red stripe and shiny leather shoes on the bed. "Put these on and pull yourself together, the General's here.

"She's not well yet, the doctor said-"

Abernathy cuts her off again. "Do _you_ want to explain that to General Paylor?" The nurse removes the cuff and Haymitch winks at me before throwing the socks in my face.

"Get dressed, kid. We're running late if you want to eat."

I'm not sure why a lowly Staff Sergeant like me needs to be at a meeting with a General, or needs to be in dress blues for that matter.

Abernathy still hasn't fled the room. "You could… you know, turn around, or leave so I can get dressed?" He snorts and turns around.

"Not like you weren't laying on the bed in your underwear yesterday," he mutters. I pull on the white undershirt and button up the dress shirt before pulling on the pants. Naturally, the shocks were almost impossible. I had to lie back on the bed and lift myself up to get them on. Fortunately the shoes were slip-on's with low heels.

"How do I look?" I ask, putting the finishing touches on my braid.

"Like a Marine that spent a day under a building who's getting over a concussion." I was expecting him to take a jab at me, "Now come on, I'm hungry!" he barks.

I hurry out of the medical ward. I'd have to go back for my computer and the clothes I was borrowing from Peeta.

"I'm not going to be caught dead eating with a lowly Staff Sergeant such as yourself, so be at command in thirty minutes."

"But… Major Abernathy… sir, they're all going to stare at me!" I plead no matter how pathetic I sound.

He starts to smirk, "Listen, sweetheart, they haven't stopped staring at you since you got here. Enjoy it, plus the bruises and stitches make you look tougher." I roll my eyes as he walks off, clearly finished with the conversation.

As I get my food, I see the rest of my platoon sitting together, though now there's only a handful of us left. I take a seat across from Peeta. "Hey," I tell them quietly, though by their dumbfounded expressions they weren't expecting to see me. "What?" I ask, destroying the plastic safety seal on my hot sauce.

"You're supposed to be in the infirmary until tomorrow. What are you doing up, and in blues?"

I look around the table, they're all dressed up. "I wanted to match you guys, plus Major Abernathy threw them at me and said the General was here," I shrug and empty my tiny tobacco bottle on my eggs and potatoes. "Please don't gawk at me, eat before your food gets colder," I say as my eyes meet Peeta's. He looks concerned but smiles faintly as I begin to eat.

"So what did I miss? Wasn't there a new platoon coming in yesterday?"

Annie smiles and nods, "Yeah, but they had to fly from the States to here with General Paylor on board." She sips at her water.

"As if the flight over here couldn't get any more tense," Thresh jokes, stabbing at his food. It was strange how friendly we've become now that Cato, Clove, Glimmer and Marvel were gone. Marvel was still somewhere being held prisoner, which was much better than he deserved.

"I don't know… my flight over here wasn't too bad. Everyone just slept and kept to themselves as I meandered around the plane," I tell them, stuffing my face, now remembering how quickly food can become scarce.

"How far can you go? They're not very big planes…" Peeta asks, but I just shrug and smile.

"You could say I made some people uneasy," I chuckle nervously.

Before long we had finished our food and coffee and head to Command. As Annie and Thresh left, I held Peeta back since he was unusually quiet the whole meal and had been giving me strange looks.

"Everything okay?" I ask him quietly once we're out of the busy room.

He chuckles and runs his hand over his freshly buzzed head. "I should be asking you that," he says as I limp alongside him and put my hand on his shoulder farthest away from me. He looks at me, shocked. In normal cases, this would be a major violation.

"I have stitches going all up and down my leg, so please be my crutch," I joke. He puts his hand around my waist, helping me as I limp.

"You're going to cause a lot of trouble someday," he smiles. As we reach Command, I reluctantly pull away from him.

"One can only hope…" The door is heavier than I remember, and we take the last two open seats across the room from one another. Around the table are faces I've never seen before mixed with a few I've seen in passing, plus the few people I actually trust.

My seat was next to Gale. When I sat down, he leaned over, "_You _should be resting," he whispers.

"So should you," I say, sticking my tongue out. His arm was still in a sling and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Without warning, he's pushed slightly towards the table and I see a hand extended behind his back. "You must be Katniss," she says, introducing herself. "I'm Johanna Mason." I smile and shake her hand; she seems nice. "Nice face…I was going to go with the whole 'at war' look, but apparently I can't pull it off!" I laugh a little. Okay, she's a little blunt.

We all standd at attention as the General enters. "At ease," she chuckles as we all take our seats once more. "Now, I wish my scheduled visit didn't coincide with such troubling events," she begins, lifting the corner of the stack of papers in front of her.

She was well decorated, with dark eyes and hair pulled back in a tight bun. Though she was young, she looked authoritative. She wore those three stars for a reason.

"Sergeant Everdeen," she says. Everyone's eyes are on me and I feel my tongue get dry.

"Yes, ma'am?" I try to answer without sounding weak.

"You were directly in charge of the Privates in question. Can you tell me why a plot like this can go undetected?"

I grip the table, biting at my stitches. "Ma'am, a plot like this shouldn't go under the radar. A Sergeant should be more attentive of those he or she is in charge of," I answer clearly. "I admit that I failed in this aspect of my duty, and respect anyone's decision to demote me if they see fit."

There's a murmur around the room, and the General just smiles, "A demotion will not be necessary, Everdeen. We cannot expect your eyes to be everywhere, but we'll discuss that later. For now, those who remain in the 74th will be transferred to the 75th in Baghdad. Sergeant Hawthorne," she says as everyone turns to look at Gale, "You will be leaving tonight with Major Odair, Corporal Cresta, and Corporal Thresh. Lieutenant Enobaria will be awaiting your arrival."

I didn't pay much attention to the rest of the meeting until she announced that non-officers were dismissed. I stood up slowly, afraid to move too fast, "Not so fast, you two," I glance over to Peeta who sits back down as well.

General Paylor takes a seat at the head of the table, flipping through her papers again. "Sergeant Mellark, you were in the city last night to speak to the father… What were the results of that meeting?"

I'm confused. Peeta didn't go into the city last night. _He was on guard duty, wasn't he?_

"He wants Marvel to be tried back in the States," Peeta replies, crossing his arms over his chest, "Where 'the cameras and his own people will shame him for his actions.'"

"We were already planning that… which is why we are here," Paylor says, downing a glass of water. "Marvel's trial will start next week. He's been given an attorney as per our constitution, though I'll tell you now that their main defense will be that he thought she had a bomb on her. The enemy is known for using that tactic before."

I slam my fist on the table. "That's horse shit!" I hiss, my mind going back to Rue's final moments.

_"Sergeant,"_ is all Paylor needs to say. I didn't need to be told twice that outbursts could lead to demotions and disciplinary actions. I sit up straight, or as straight as I could with my ribs. "This is unorthodox," she starts, "But General Coin and I both believe the best way to make sure he is convicted is to have two eye witnesses take the stand. President Snow handed these orders down himself."

"We… we're going home?" Peeta asks. He sounds almost hopeful, but equally confused as I am.

"Not for long, only until his trial is over. You two leave for Washington as soon as possible. Since the trial will be held in DC, we'll provide a hotel room, reimbursement for food and anything else you need to buy while there, as well as a rental car…" her brow furrows. Losing this many people is devastating to the mission.

She hands us two pieces of paper. "This says Germany… and Philadelphia, aren't we going on a-"

"You will be taking a military plane to Böblingen, Germany, where they will deliver you to Stuttgart. There aren't any flights going back to the States for a week. By then it'll be too late, so we had to improvise. You go from Stuttgart to Munich, then from Munich to Philadelphia…"

I cut her off there. "Is there any chance we could drive from Philadelphia? It's only like three hours and we won't be needed for a few days after that," I pause as she looks at me curiously. "It's only three hours and I've driven it many times. I'm sorry, ma'am, I just really hate planes," I bit my stitches again, wincing.

"I'll make a few calls," she says, nodding. "This event has strained the country's view on us as well as our operations. While in uniform, you two are expected to be the embodiment of what the Marine Corps is supposed to represent. No plots to kill civilians or to start combat. No shooting little girls, but honorable, well-trained Marines," she insists, leaning back in her chair. "And who knows, if you impress myself or General Coin, you both may see yourselves back in Quantico at Officer Candidate School. It's nothing like Parris Island, but the two of you show impressive skill across several fields, particularly the ability to think straight in adverse situations…" That meant Second Lieutenant and onward. More responsibility, more pay, and the guarantee of another tour.

"Thank you, General," Peeta finally says as I snap back to the meeting, "When do we need to be ready by?"

She looks at the clock. "One hour, is that enough time?"

"Wait, my family lives in DC…" I say. "Would it be okay to see them while we're there or would we be considered AWOL?"

Paylor smiles a little. "You both may do as you please when you are not needed by the court. As I said before, however, when in uniform you are to make us proud. You're both dismissed; make sure you get your weapons."

I smirk, "I can't take a sniper rifle on a passenger plane."

"You have your permit and all clearances to carry it. You're not a private citizen." she confirms. Paylor stands to leave and salutes us. We mirror her movements and leave Command in a hurry.

I pack everything I brought with me in one duffle bag. I would not be returning to Fallujah after the trial, so every tiny piece of me must to be removed from this space, which isn't much.

I change from my blues into a clean, well-worn combat uniform. My boots are messy, and I have no way to get them in the bag without destroying everything.

Suddenly, my door swings open. "Guess this is goodbye," Major Abernathy says, letting himself in without knocking.

"What if I was in my underwear, sir?" I joke. In his hands are three gun cases.

"Not like you weren't on a hospital bed in your skivvies just yesterday," he teases back. I roll my eyes and take my gun cases from him. "Oh no, you're not carrying these with your ribs. Get your bag, let's go." I shove my computer in my pack, giving him a dirty look.

"Listen, kid," he starts as I sling my bag over my shoulder, wincing at the weight, "This is important. I know you know, but I have to tell you again. We've only been over here a month and the country seems to think we're all batshit crazy, which is why this trial is happening so fast. The defense is going to do _everything _to discredit both of you. When you get back, you have three days off to get over your jetlag." he smirks as we walked down the hall. "Do whatever, see the sights, see your sweetheart," I smile faintly, "Hell, get wasted, just not in uniform." I nod. "After that, drive down to Quantico and retake your sniper test, get your eyes checked, everything."

"But I'm not cleared," I point out, adjusting my bag. We're getting strange stares from the men and women rushing down the hall.

"I know. Your ribs will be bad for weeks, but the concussion should be fine by then. That brings us to," he pauses. Around here, you tend to forget days. "You leave for Germany now… catch the plane tomorrow morning, land in the States tomorrow… then for whatever reason _drive_ to DC."

"I want a cheesesteak," I tell him simply.

"Get one in Washington…"

"You've never been to Philadelphia, have you?" I tease as we open the door to the hot Iraq summer. I would never admit this to anyone, but I love the dry heat. Pennsylvania and Maryland summers are muggy and oppressive, and I had managed to spend the last four in a dark uniform.

"Can't say I have. Been to Pittsburg, though, practically the same thing," he says and I shudder.

"Well… basically you'll be in the States by Monday, and the trial starts _next_ Monday. Make sure you're in your evening blues, everything polished and ironed. Bring your hat, but don't wear it in the courtroom. You won't be needed every day, but you can go watch if you want. Though this is a media clusterfuck," he huffs as we approach the plane. "Enjoy the protesters, but stay away from the big buildings. You know, the White House, the Capitol Building; unless you want anti-war nuts to tar and feather you."

"That's a little old school," I note as we walk up the stairs. Peeta is already inside, having probably been rushed out like me.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't do anything stupid. See you in Baghdad once this is all over," he finishes. I set my bag down and go for my gun cases.

I look over Abernathy's shoulder and see Gale walking from the range, "Gale!" I shout, nearly leaping off the plane.

"Sergeant Everdeen!" Major Abernathy scolds as I run to my friend. I crash into him but he regains his balance and hugs me.

"I don't have a lot of time. Peeta and I are headed back to the States for Marvel's trial. Oh, hey, Johanna!" Gale's girlfriend rolls her eyes.

"You know that's just for show… they already got him," I just shrug.

"You just take care, okay? Don't do anything stupid. I'll be back in Iraq before you notice I'm gone!"

Gale ruffles my hair and smiles. "Take care, Catnip. I'll notice you're gone the second you take off, since the guys will stop talking about 'what they'd do to you.'"

I roll my eyes as he pulls me in for another hug, "Knock 'em dead…" he whispers as I head back to the plane.

"How many bags do you have?" Peeta asks. I notice he has three more than I do.

"I was stationed where we're flying to. It was kind of like… being back at Lejeune, days off, casual clothes. Went straight from there to Fallujah," I explain.

Peeta just shrugs and hands me a bottle of Vicodin, probably for my head and ribs.

"When were you last stateside?" I ask and dry swallow one pill. The plane lurches, pushing me into him.

"Sixteen months ago?" he shrugs, taking a sip of water, his elbows resting on his knees. "I came home from Afghanistan, then went to Germany, now Iraq. After this, though, I'm hoping to spend the rest of my contract in Lejeune working intelligence." He sits back, resting his hands behind his head. "Then who knows."

I nod, leaning into his chest as he places an arm around me. We have the whole cabin to ourselves, seeing as no one is leaving Iraq for Germany right now. He looks down at me, smiling faintly before lifting my chin up. Our lips meet in a sweet, chaste kiss.

"A whole week in Washington… basically on leave… no prying eyes," he whispers before our lips meet again.

"A few days… then I have to go to retake my sniper test at Quantico," I yawn, the Vicodin kicking in. I blink once, and when I open my eyes again, I'm in the sniper's nest.

"_Target has a bomb, eliminate immediately!" I hear in my ear. I reposition my gun, "Target rounding the corner," I pull back the bolt. I couldn't get a good look, as the person was covered in so many layers of fabric, "Everdeen!" my ear hisses. Without hesitation, I pull the trigger, right through the head. I watch the body fall to the ground._

"_Rue!" I cry, seeing her cold dead face through the scope, in her hand was "To Kill a Mockingbird." Everyone I cared about, and even those I started to care for seem to walk from the shadows. My mother, my father, Prim, Peeta, Madge, Abarnathy, Odair, Cresta, Thresh, Gale, and Johanna. They're all looking up at me with eyes full of hatred. I just killed that baby girl. She's only 10 years old and I put a bullet through her head._

_At that moment, all of them were caught in a fiery explosion stemming from Rue's dead body._

"_No!" I shout, but I can't move to them. They're screaming, mutilated beyond repair and cursing me for doing that to them._

I jolt awake, taking up six chairs along the right side of the plane. "Katniss…" Peeta coos softly, kneeling in front of me and taking my hand in his, "You were screaming…"

And that's how they started.


	10. Explorations and Crossing the Line

**Chapter 10 – Explorations and Crossing the Line**

Peeta doesn't press me about the nightmare, but he should, as would anyone. Instead, he holds me as I sob until my eyes run dry, stroking my braid as I stare blankly across the plane. "We'll be landing soon…" he says. "It's late, though, so we may only be able to find food and crash…"

"Can I stay with you tonight?" I whisper. I know he's smiling. I don't know how I can tell; maybe it's a change in his energy, maybe he just smiles with his whole body, if that's even possible.

"Sure," he whispers back. His fingers find my stitches, tracing the threads once or twice. "How are you feeling?" he asks, poking at my nose playfully.

"Numb," I answer truthfully. I'm physically and emotionally drained and we aren't even in the States yet. Maybe those few days off will be good for me, for us. Time alone, out of uniform with Peeta Mellark. I smile faintly, the joy lighting up my darkness as a candle would in a large cavern.

"I have so many places I want to take you…" I whisper as he unties my hair, running his fingers through the strands. "First, we're stopping off in Philly. The Major may make fun of me, but I know I won't get a good cheesesteak down in North Carolina." I roll over so I'm looking up at him. "We're not going to Pat's or Geno's, they're not as good as they want you to think. Tony Luke's…" I let out a content sigh, "That's where you go." I feel a tear coming to my eye. Embarrassed, I immediately sit up and keep my back to him until I get the next sentence out. "That's where my Dad would take me during the summer when we'd go see the Phillies." I say, wiping my eyes. I never talk about my Dad to anyone. After a deep breath or two, I turn and face him again.

"Can't say I've ever seen more of Philly besides the airport," he says. I remember the hallow, grey building. Even full of people, it always felt empty to me. Maybe it's because it was the last place I saw my Dad alive.

Peeta listens to me ramble about places in Washington and my mother's apartment. "There is one stop I need to make though…" I say, fumbling with my dog tags. I'd have to get new ones with our new division on them once we return to Baghdad.

Before I know it, we've landed in Germany. Peeta insists on carrying my heavy clothes bag due to my ribs and the worsening limp in my injured leg, but I fight him tooth and nail as he tries to take my guns away from me. I know I'll have to give them up on the way back to Philadelphia, but still.

"We're a small facility," a woman who's name I don't catch tells us, "Under two thousand Marines." This building is a lot nicer than Dreamland, cleaner and quieter and no layer of thin, cream colored dust on everything. "Though you've been here before, _Sergeant_ Mellark," she says, looking back at us and winking at him. I narrow my eyes.

_Lady, I could give you a nice hole in your head from over a thousand yards,_ I think before shaking off the angry thought.

"I'm sure you know _every_ private spot here," she continues, snapping her gum. In my mind, I'm tackling her to the ground for the salacious comments directed at my boyfriend. Wait, was he my boyfriend? We never established everything. Ugh!

"Not particularly," he says flatly. "Though I will be showing Sergeant Everdeen the firing range since she has her sniper retest a few days before the trial." The woman opens a door for us. There are two beds - one made, one unmade with the sheets pushed down to the bottom. The clothes strewn about the room tell me I'm invading someone's space.

"For you, Sergeant Everdeen, don't worry about the roommate. She's on leave this weekend so you'll have the space to yourself." Peeta sets my bag down and rests his hand on my shoulder.

I look up into his bright blue eyes. "I'll be back in a few to take you to the range," he says. I nod, smiling a little and he's gone.

"How is someone so messy?" I whisper, sitting down on the bed I'm sure I won't sleep in tonight.

I leave the door open and set my cases down on the bed. The first thing I check is my handgun, nothing much to be messed with there. "I think you're confused," a voice starts. "What are you doing in Wiress' room?" he says as I jump. "Why are you in desert Camo?" I look up to see a man wearing a lab coat and thick glasses.

"I- I'm sorry!" I exclaim, snapping the case closed. "I'm just here for the night! I'm leaving for the States in the morning! For…for the trial!" It doesn't dawn on me that maybe he doesn't know about the killing, but he nods in understanding. "Sergeant Everdeen," I say, holding out my scratched up hand, hoping he takes it and it dissolves our tension.

"Bernard Thompson, or Beetee," he replies, shaking my hand. "Ah yes…the trial. I examined the rifle used in the killing just last night. Beautiful thing, really, though bastardized in brutish hands," he shrugs and walks away without a goodbye. Someone walks by in old fashioned green and browns meant for the forests, giving me the once over before whistling.

"I love a lady in uniform," he croons, leaning on the door frame as I open my sniper rifle case, "I love a lady out of uniform more though, I'm-" I pull out the gun, holding it by the stock, and give him a stern look. "Going to go…" I roll my eyes as he dashes away.

I close the door after I deem my baby passable. I put her away and open up my clothes bag, deciding since maybe I see so many people here in blues, I won't stand out in mine. I pull out the white shirt and blue slacks but something's wrong… they're way too big.

"Peeta…" I groan, stuffing his blues back in the bag after running my thumb over his name tag.

"Yes?" I jump at his voice. There he is, standing in my doorway.

"You gave me your bag. What am I supposed to do with your baggy clothes?" I ask. Then he says something I never expected to hear.

"Take them off, of course," he tells me, as if this is the obvious answer I should have come to the second I realized his clothes were in my room.

"I… umm…" I pick up his bag by the strap and hand it to him. "Here," I stammer. My cheeks are burning which only makes his cheeky grin wider. I grab my rifle and handgun case with one hand, my baby in the other, afraid to leave her alone in the room.

Peeta drops his bag on the floor and unbuttons his jacket. I find my mouth growing dry as his fingers pop each button. I don't know what compels me to do it, but as he removes an article of clothing I mirror him until we're both in our underwear, watching each other's movements like hawks.

His massive hands find my cheeks and his lips are on mine sloppily. We back up until I'm against the door, which he locks with a soft click, but we don't move. His lips are soft but passionate, driven even. I freeze, my hands pressing against the wood door before I cautiously place my hands on his hips. I'm terrified that he can sense how inexperienced I am and will think less of me. It's been years since I've been kissed like this. Actually, Gale never kissed me with such force, such passion. One of Peeta's hands drops from my face and lightly runs down my neck, then touches my collarbones. I'm acutely nervous of his every touch as he reaches my sports bra, my nipples going instantly hard from his touch.

A faint moan escapes my mouth as he massages my chest with a tender firmness that makes me melt. I'm wet…no soaked. I wonder if he knows I've dreamed about this for ages…

I part my lips for his tongue which I feel brushing my teeth before he hikes up one of my legs, resting it on his hip so his erection touches my wetness. Oh god, now he knows I'm putty in his hands. I want those strong calloused hands of his to touch every inch of me.

He pushes in a little so his chest is on mine, adding too much pressure on my bruised ribs, which makes me wail in pain and sink to the floor.

"Katniss! Oh shit!" He's down at my level now, blushing fiercely. "I'm sorry, I got carried away, I shouldn't have-" I put a finger to his lips as I catch my breath, both from the kiss and from the gripping pain.

"Thank you," I whisper. I felt more at ease, uplifted… and happy. I'm still blushing fiercely as he helps me to the ground as I dig out my blues so we can blend in a little better.

"I'm sorry if I came on to strong, it's just that…" I stop him there.

"I've only ever been with one other guy… and that was longer ago than I'm willing to tell you," I blurt out, still in my underwear.

I'm hyperaware of his presence in this room, his chest millimeters form my back. "That's alright, we have some time to ourselves once we get to the States…" His fingers trace my spine as he continues, "I never thought I could be this brave with you in the room in your underwear." He smiles as he wraps his arms around my waist, though I stiffen a little.

"The first time you saw me in Iraq, I was in my bra and pants to make Cato uncomfortable," I remind him quietly as I pull on my undershirt, breaking the spine tingling contact. He mirrors my moves again until I go for the buttons of my shirt, fumbling with my daft fingers.

"Here," he starts in a calm voice as he buttons my shirt for me. I want to pull away, tell him I can do it myself. I could have, but secretly hoping his hand would brush my breast in the process.

I was a perverted sixteen year old all over again.

I'm much hungrier than I thought when we get to dinner, finishing off my food before Peeta even settles in his seat. "People are staring…" I whisper as I use my finger to clean my plate.

"Two Sergeants they've never seen before eating dinner together, the one basically licking her plate clean after using two bottles of hot sauce," he teases. I stick my tongue out, "You'd stare, too. Just wait until you get on the range," he says. I smile and nudge my case with my foot. I had to leave my sniper rifle in the room, seeing as the range here was only about 100 yards, hardly worth the time.

"Maybe it's my face…" I mumble, feeling the burning of my stitches, "I look like a domestic abuse victim." The bruise on my face had since grown green and blended a little better with my olive skin, but I still had stitches going from my eyebrow to my hairline, and two in my lips.

I began playing with my braid, there was something I knew I needed to find out. "Peeta, what are we?" I ask.

He chews and swallows the food he put in his mouth as I asked him this, "Marines?"

I roll my eyes and rub my lips with the tip of my braid. "No… I mean what are _we_? You and I? What is this," I motion back and forth between him and I.

"What do _you_ want it to be?" he inquires, chugging his soda. I shift uncomfortably, as this is territory I've never ventured into before. His eyes soften, changing from amused to concerned. "_I'd_ like to start dating," he starts, "Once we get back we'd have to be quiet about it, not do anything risky that'll get you sent home." I nod, he's talking about pregnancy.

"I won't be on the base much…"

"That makes it easier to hide. How will you stand it? In a hole for days at a time?" He's done eating but we continue to sit there as the mess hall clears out.

"You adapt," I say. "It depends on how many are in the hole with you. If it's three, you have three eight hour shifts; one sleeping and the other keeping the one on gun company. If there are two, you usually have about four hours of entertainment when they're not trying to sleep. The other eight hours you try to read, or do something else quiet that'll keep you entertained," I smile as he nods.

"Why did you choose to become a sniper?" he asks.

I let out a long dejected sigh, "It was my Dad… He was a sniper, so I'm trying to do him proud." We both smile a little, "Now come on, my boyfriend promised to show me a firing range."

"So you have a boyfriend now? Will I have to fight him for your hand?" I just roll my eyes at his teasing.

"Something's wrong…" I grumble. I'm hitting every target, but where I once hit right at the X in the center, now I'm a little off. I pull out my ear plugs and pull the target back. Everything here is so nice and high tech, no targets propped up against hay bales like where I learned to shoot, or dirt mounds like in Iraq.

"Your stance is too closed," I was so focused on my targets I didn't hear Peeta sneak up on me. "Here," he says, positioning the stock of my rifle at my shoulder and turning me, nudging my feet further apart. Suddenly, I feel his groin press into my backside and want to melt right here.

_Dammit!_ I curse myself. What was this boy doing to me?

"Where'd a baker's son learn to shoot?" I ask as he positions me.

"My brothers and I are really into paintball. As the youngest, it was either get good or come home covered in welts." I smirk a little, "Now try," he says. I miss again, a little worse than before.

"I don't get it… My scope is right, my stance… unless… my concussion, it changed my eyes," I conclude. He makes a face as I look up at him. I use my nail and adjust the scope only slightly before getting back in position. I pull the trigger, this time hitting the target perfectly.

"This… could be bad…" I groan as I put the safety on and set my gun down. "If I don't have twenty-twenty vision they'll fail me!" The realization is like a stone in my stomach.

"You won't fail…" he coos, stroking my arms. "You just need to practice a little more, adjust your scope. You have this, Katniss… I know you do." He kisses the back of my head. I trust him.

Back in his room, we strip from our blues and climb into bed in our underwear. There is a sense of awkwardness as we lay together, neither moving to touch the other. I decide to make the first move in our romantic game of chicken. I drape my leg over his hips so I can get closer, while his strong hand runs along the back of my thigh. I've wanted his touch for so long... I shiver into him.

"I've wanted this for years…" he whispers my thoughts out loud, "It doesn't have to be sex, I just wanted you, in my arms…" He kisses the top of my head. "Because when you're here, I know you're safe…" I watch his lips move before leaning in and kissing him. We're cautious at first and once again I'm hyperaware of his every movement - his hand on my backside, his growing erection, even my own dampness.

"Ugh, we're horny teenagers…" I mumble. He pulls away and laughs, brushing hair from my face.

"I'm sorry… It's just, I've wanted you for so long," he admits, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, "You're in my bed in your underwear, it's kind of like a switch…"

I can't believe what I'm about to say, but it comes out anyway, "I'm not ready for that…" He nods in understanding. "But, there are other things… things that I'm willing to try until we're ready," I hesitate a little before resting my hand on his erection, my cheeks instantly burning as he stifles a moan. It twitches in my hand expectantly.

"I'm sorry… this is kind of uncharted territory for me…" I admit, kicking myself for letting those words escape.

"Here…" he croons, taking his hand from my backside and pulling himself from his boxers, wrapping my hand around his girth. "Like this…" He moves my hand from base to tip slowly before trusting me to do it on my own. I reach the tip, feeling his precum leak out. He stifles a moan, knowing we have to be quiet.

"It's like being sixteen all over again…" he whispers, kissing me lightly as I continue working him. "Being quiet to not let our parents hear," he kisses me again, moaning in my mouth. "That feels amazing…"

My wrist is getting sore, so I know I can't continue much longer. "Sit up," I tell him quietly, unsure of what I'm about to do. He listens to my command, leaning his back against the headboard as I lean down between his legs, enjoying his gasp as I take his length in my mouth. I pull off and flick the tip with my tongue, eliciting a moan before descending on him again, bobbing my head and trailing my tongue against the length of his shaft.

"K-Katniss!" he gasps, bunching the sheets in his hands. He puts a hand on my shoulder but it's too late. I feel his seed spill in my mouth, salty and hot. I pull off and swallow as he bursts out laughing.

"What?" I'm blushing fiercely, wiping my mouth clean.

"Your face… I'm sorry, I tried to stop you," he says, embarrassed. I straddle him, letting the desire I felt for him throughout my teen years take over.

"Don't worry about it… You don't taste half bad." I kiss his forehead, smiling. "We're crossing so many lines…"

"Yup, now let's cross another," he says, his thumbs hooking into the elastic strap of my sports bra, pulling it over my head. I cross my arms over my small chest, keeping it form his view. "Don't you fucking dare," he snaps, "Don't you dare hide yourself from me." I look up at him through my eyelashes as he pins my arms to my side, drinking in my bruised body. I'm toned and have a boyish figure, though my small breasts are eclipsed by his hands.

He lights my body on fire with his hungry gaze and warm hands while massaging my chest. "Turn around and sit between my legs," he whispers in my ear. I move slowly, trying not to agitate my ribs or stitches before resting against his nude form. His hands travel from my breasts to my now moist boy shorts. They're tender but knowing as he traces my dampness. My whimpers are becoming too loud, so he covers my mouth with his hand, cooing in my ear while sneaking his hand in my underwear.

I wince as his finger enters me, pressing my back into his chest while his palm stifles my moans. "When we're in the States, I'm going to make you scream…" he promises, while his damp fingers find my clit, rubbing in small, fast circles until I'm thrashing against him. The fire is released to every inch of my body, my orgasm like a brush fire, coming on quick and unfortunately going just as soon as it came.

He holds me while my breathing and heart rate slow. "Wow…" he whispers, finally removing his hand from my mouth.

"Yeah…" Never in my dreams did I imagine I'd be in bed with a naked Peeta, the taste of his seed fresh on my tongue and his hand slick with my arousal.

No nightmares come as we sleep in a tangle of limbs and sweat, our faces inches from each other's.

Featherlight kisses rouse me from sleep. They're over every inch of my face, tickling me and tempting me to open my eyes and meet Peeta's curious sea blue eyes. "Time to get up," he spanks me lightly, "We have to leave in an hour."

I pout and he pulls me close. "I like waking up next to you… especially when you're not throwing yourself to the floor in a panic." I roll my eyes, pulling on my bra and a pair of sweat shorts from my bag, his eyes burning into my back. Suddenly I'm conscious of every scar, every freckle, every imperfection on my body.

I pull on a t-shirt. "I'm… umm… shower…" I stutter, grabbing my heavy bag full of clothes and toiletries.

"It's right there," he says, pointing to a door I thought was the closet. When I open the door, I find it's a tiny personal bathroom.

"Heaviest bag first, please," the woman asks as I sling my clothes bag onto the scale. "Do you have any firearms in your possession?"

I nod and hand her my permits, pointing down at my three gun cases and Peeta's two. She waves someone over and begins speaking in German.

"You please, come this way," the man says. I take my bags and cases and follow him. This is why we had to get to the airport five hours before our flight…

The man has me open my sniper rifle first, "American cannot take this into country."

"I'm not a private citizen, here," I say, handing him my military ID, passport, and point at my permit. "We're with the United States Marine Corps," he looks confused before Peeta speaks up, his German confident as he hopefully tells the man why I have a weapon on me that's very illegal if I was a private citizen.

"Ah yes, you are… long range shooter?" he asks.

"Sniper, yes…" I kick at the ground a little.

"For trial, before you go back?" I nod slowly as he prints out a tag. "Make sure they are all unloaded and locked," he tells me after the half hour examination of my three weapons and the nearly half hour of Peeta's.

"You have a safe trip," he tells us. We watch as our bags are taken into the back where our weapons will surely be manhandled again. We head to the security checkpoint, surprisingly making it through with little to no hassle.

"Did you call home?" Peeta asks, his arm lazily thrown around my shoulders.

"I… Shit…" I pull my cellphone out of my backpack and turn it on for the first time since leaving for Iraq. One of my mother's stipulations about my deployment was that I get an international chip put in my phone, just in case.

"It's like…" he looks at the clock, "Three there…"

I wave him off dialing Mom's number. "She's a nurse and has been on night shift for the last few months…" It rings twice before she picks up, "Hello? Katniss? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Mom, it's me." I twist my braid around my finger. "Listen, I'm coming home," I start.

"Wait, what? Are you okay?"

"Yeah… you know that Marine who's going on trial next week?"

"Yes…" she pauses. I know she's curious, but I know there's not a lot of time.

"He was one of mine. I'm coming back with someone else from our division for the trial before I go back to Baghdad." I run my hands through my hair, messing up my braid. Even as I say the words, they don't seem real.

"Katniss… The missing Marine….was that you?" she asks.

"Yeah… I… Listen, I'll tell you all about it when I get back to the States," I promise. We had managed to kill three hours in the airport already and our plane would be boarding soon.

"When will you be home?"

"Today, wait, maybe tomorrow? I'm not sure. We have thirteen or more hours on a plane, then we're driving from Philly to DC. I have to come straight there since I can't really walk around public in my BDU's…" I explain.

"Kat, I have to go. Call me when you get into town. I love you," she says, which causes me to pause. My mother and I _never _say 'I love you'.

"I… love you, too, Mom. See you soon…" I reply and hang up.

"That seemed oddly formal," Peeta remarks and hands me my backpack, which I sling over my shoulder. He wraps his arm around my waist as we hand our boarding passes to the woman at the desk and board the plane.

"My mom and I aren't close…" I tell him after the plane to Munich takes off. "After my Dad went missing and was killed, she shut off. I haven't trusted her since…"

He just nods. "I'm not particularly close to my Mom, either. Things really got worse when I told her I was enlisting," he shrugs. "My old man's proud of me, though, and that's enough…"

We land in Munich before I can blink. We have to rush to our next flight, the plane taking us from Munich to Philadelphia, which I plan on sleeping through. Peeta and I stand in line to board, getting strange looks from our fellow passengers. We must be a sight - me with my stitches; Peeta, the stereotypical image of Marine, tall and muscular with buzzed hair.

I idly read my plane ticket, which states _First Class_ at the top. "Holy shit," I mumble, pointing it out to Peeta.

"Paylor did say us going to the States was by the President's order…" he shrugs as I pop a Vicodin to help me sleep. The intoxicating pill takes affect shortly after takeoff, and I fall asleep with my head resting on his shoulder.

Yet another sleep with no nightmares.

When I rouse later, Peeta is sound asleep, his head on mine. When I sit up, he groans but doesn't wake.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" the flight attendant asks. "Drinks are complimentary." I know better than to drink with the Vicodin still in my system.

"Just some water, please, thanks." She nods and I shiver, checking my watch. It's still on Iraq time, eight hours ahead of DC. The woman returns a moment later, handing me a bottle. "How long until we land?" I ask.

"Just under an hour, we should see land soon," she confirms. I nod, realizing I've managed to sleep away a thirteen hour flight. If only I could have done that when leaving for Iraq, rather than pacing and vomiting three or four times.

I pull Peeta's bag from between his feet and dig through the pockets. Before takeoff, he reminded me that there was a travel toothpaste in his case and that my toothbrush was in my carry-on. He knew if I slept through the flight, I would want to clean myself up before landing.

That boy was psychic.

I waited for the bathroom to vacate, bolting in before anyone else could even try. The plane lurched several times while I was brushing my teeth, making me spatter blue foamy spit on the mirror and counter which I spent the next five minutes cleaning up.

"I hate planes…" I sigh, splashing water on my sleepy face. I redo my braid, checking my reflection one more time, deeming myself presentable enough.

"Hey you…" Peeta yawns as I sit down. He pulls me in for a soft good morning kiss, much like the ones he showered me in before. "Mmmm, minty," he yawns again.

"We're landing soon. So if you want to freshen up, you should do it now." I kiss his nose before he groggily stumbles to the bathroom.

"Good morning, passengers," the flight attendant starts as land comes into view, "We are about to begin our final decent into Philadelphia. At this time, we ask that you put your seat backs and tray tables in their upright and locked position as well as turn off all portable electronic devices. Flight attendants will be around one last time to pick up any trash," she pauses for a second just as Peeta returns to his seat, "And if you didn't notice before, we have two of our men and women in uniform on board today. We would like to extend a thank you to Sgt. Katniss Everdeen and Sgt. Peeta Mellark of the U.S. Marine Corps for their service to our country." We exchange looks; I had seen this done before when I was a child flying from Arlington to where my father was buried to Philadelphia. The plane slowly erupts into a thunderous applause.

I shrink into the seat as Peeta grips my hand. _I couldn't escape this tube fast enough…_

But instead, I stare at the Sports Complexes neatly packed together as we near Philadelphia. So many memories…

"Welcome to Philadelphia," I say to Peeta as we grab our bags and weapons and stand in line to go through Customs.

"Do you have anything to declare?" the woman asks, comparing my passport to my face and my Military ID. "Nope," I stretch a little, my entire body stiff from the flight. Our guns had already been inspected, though I had to explain yet again why I had a sniper rifle in my possession. The woman was just as easy to talk to as the gentleman in Germany.

"Thank you and God bless." she says, handing us our passports.

_Sgt. Katniss M. Everdeen_, I sign on the contract for our rental car. "Will you be returning it here or…"

"Erm…" To be honest, I didn't even think about that part, "No, most likely Baltimore-Washington International," I say. The lady snaps her gum, displeased by this.

"Just return it full of gas and in one piece. We don't usually rent to twenty-two year olds, but calls were made," she sighs but I don't really care. I just want out of the airport, see the sun, hear the English speaking people, even with their Philadelphian attitude.

"I hate to immaculate you, Peeta, but I'll drive."

He just rolls his eyes in reply. "Good, I don't drive in Philly or near the beltway," he affirms, loading our bags into the car. When I get into the driver's seat, his hands are on my face immediately, pulling me into a deep kiss. "You're so sexy in your uniform…" he whispers, stroking my cheeks as I start the car.

"Good," I pull away and buckle myself in, "Then you'll never have to see me out of it again!" His jaw drops as I put the car in gear and navigate by memory to I-95.

"When we come back to the States for real…we're going to a Phillies game," I insist, biting into my ketchup slathered cheesesteak. It tastes just as good as I remember. "They'll have the new park up and everything by then," I tell him with a mouthful of food.

"Such a lady," he scoffs, taking a napkin and pressing it to my face instead of putting it in my hand. "And sure, when we have time, I'd love to. We each still have about three years left on our contracts. I'm sure we can make it work so we both have a seventy-two at the same time," I nod and drain my soda. "Also, you cover every other thing you eat in hot sauce… why not a cheesesteak?" he asks.

I look at him, as if injured by his words. "Blasphemy!" I joke before taking the lid off my cup and pouring ice into my mouth. "I missed Coke so much," I say into the cup. Peeta just laughs at me, that warm free laughter that only makes the sunny day even brighter.

"So next stop… the hotel?" he asks, finishing his food.

I shake my head. "No, I have something else I need to do before we get to DC," I whisper, staring off at the Philly skyline. As my father's laughter echoes in my ears, I give him a weak smile.

"Arlington?" he asks as I purchase a bouquet of calla lilies.

I nod slowly, holding them close to my chest and handing him the keys. "Can you drive? It's just down the road. I can tell you where to go from there…" I ask quietly. He nods and gets in the driver's seat as I sniff at the white petals.

"Stop here," I tell him when we've reached the right part. "I… you can stay here if you want…" I mumble, biting at my lip. I want him to come with me, I need him to, but my strange behavior in addition to visiting my father's grave might be a little much.

I jump out of the car, not waiting for his response, and look over the thin, white headstones. Each one has a cross or the branch of the military the person buried under it had served in. Finally, I see it.

_Lt. Abraham Everdeen_

_Persian Gulf War POW_

_March 21, 1959 – June 19, 1992_

I slowly trace my father's birth date and death date with my fingers before digging the leaves from the tube in the ground meant for flowers.

"I'm sorry, Dad…" I whisper, "I feel like we're leaving you behind again. It's destroying Mom, I know it…"

I place the lilies in the black tube before removing the left over leaves and grass trimmings from around the headstone. "Prim's trying to be strong. She's turning eighteen next summer," I tell his headstone, wiping tears from my face. I've grown aware of Peeta's presence, but try to ignore it as I keep talking.

"I'm sorry I can't trust Mom…" I sob, gripping my pants. I feel my stitches tug but I have to ignore it. "I want to, but what if she shuts off again? What if something happens to me? Prim's just a kid… just a kid…" I wrap my arms around my body as the memory of his funeral comes back to me.

_I'm ten years old, standing in the early summer rain as my father receives a twenty-one gun salute. My mother appears as blank as a statue, as Prim and I are left to wonder why they were putting our father in the ground…_

"Shhh…" Peeta coos, stroking my hair as I sob into his chest. "He's so proud of you," he promises, "I know it, any father would be." I nod without looking at him, my eyes fixed on my father's name. _Would I have a stone like this?_

I move forward and kiss his headstone. "I'll make you proud, Dad…" I whisper to him before leaving the cemetery without another word or a second glance, knowing it would bring me to tears again. After all, I was so close to ending up here just a few short days ago.

Suddenly, my phone begins ringing. It's my mother. "Hey…" I answer in a quiet voice.

"Are you in DC?" she asks, not bothering to say hello back.

"Yeah, we'll be there in about a half hour, traffic permitting…" I tell her flatly.

"Good. Prim is bouncing off the walls. She's even stepped on that damned cat twice."

"Good, maybe he'll be in hiding when we get there!" I smile a little, taking the keys from Peeta, not trusting him to find my apartment.

When I get off the phone, he kisses my cheek and gives me a smile. "You must think I'm a nut…" I say, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Well, yeah, but for different reasons," he grins. "But I do think you're a loving daughter who was paying her respects to her father." I nod a little, kissing him lightly.

"I don't deserve you," I tell him quietly, "But I'm going to keep you."

Washington DC is in a constant state of traffic jam. Even though I lived off the beaten path, it still takes about twenty minutes to get home through the stop and go traffic.

"Katniss!" I hear Prim shout as she bolts out the door. I wince as her body collides with mine, "You're here! You're really here!" Her bright grey eyes study my injuries.

"A little worse for wear, but yes, I'm here!" I smile, ruffling her loose blonde hair.

"This is…" I start, but she cuts me off.

"Peeta Mellark. I remember him," she says. Rather than ask, she pulls him in for a tight hug. I plead with her telepathically to not spill every detail of the crush I had on him when we were kids. I look up to see my mother in the doorway, drying her hands on a towel.

"Katniss…" she breathes, finally leaving the house and crossing the yard. "What happened to you?"

"A building fell on me," I confirm. Her jaw drops as her cold hands find my chin, examining my sutures and bruise. "I would have been a goner if this guy right here didn't come save my ass," I say, nudging Peeta.

"Language, Katniss," she scolds before looking at Peeta with tears in her eyes. "Thank you…" she tells him while pulling me into a hug.

Once inside, I bound up the stairs two at a time to my bedroom which is all boxed up, ready for the move. Even though we have to hurry, I steal a moment to flop onto my bed while listening to the conversation downstairs.

"She doesn't go there with anyone…" I hear Mom say amidst the clanking in the kitchen, "Not even Gale." They must be talking about the cemetery visit. I try to ignore it as I shove clothes in my suitcase. I grab jeans, shorts, a few dresses just in case, followed by a few pairs of sandals and heels.

I zip the case shut, praying I didn't forget anything or at least packed things that match…

"Mom, Prim, don't make him uncomfortable," I grunt as the suitcase thumps down the stairs. The three of them are sitting in our humble living room. Peeta admires my dark blue mortarboard from our high school graduation; the tassel with the gold 1999 next to it as well as two pictures - one of me accepting my diploma, the next me standing as students entering the military are recognized.

"It was cloudy that day… but the second the principal said _Katniss Marie Everdeen, United States Marine Corps_, the clouds broke. I knew it was her Dad," Mom says wistfully.

I roll my eyes. My mother loved this story. It was 'how she knew I'd be safe'.

"Mom, you're going to chase him off," I mutter, setting my bag by the door as she waves me off. On the mantle sat two frames, individual photos of my father and I both dressed in our formal blues. _Like father, like daughter…_

"Want anything to drink?" I ask Peeta while pulling a soda from the fridge.

"Nah, I'm good," he says. I empty the Coke, and feeling a little too comfortable in my home, I let out a loud belch.

"And that, Sergeant Mellark, is my daughter," my mother sighs.

"Katniss, can you at least _pretend_ to be a woman for five minutes?" Prim asks from the couch. I throw the dishtowel at her before walking over to Peeta and kissing him on the cheek.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," he says, kissing my forehead. Prim groans while I study my mother's shocked expression. I don't usually attach myself to guys, yet here was one in our living room holding me.

"This is a nice surprise…" my mother says, hugging him. "You take care of her, okay? Don't let her do something stupid."

"I promise," he tells her. He can't keep it, but it's enough for her.

"Good luck with the move," I say as we grab my things and head outside. "We're free for the next few days. I'll call you, we'll get together for dinner or something." Mom and Prim nod back as we get in the car.

"Where are we staying?" I ask, pulling the GPS from the dashboard to put in the address.

"The Saint Regis?" He shows me the paper and looks confused by my slack jaw.

"That's not possible…" he balks. "That's like… A really nice hotel, like _really_ nice…"

Sure enough, he's right. "Uh yes, we have the Presidential Suite prepared for the both of you," the desk clerk says upon our arrival. _What the actual fuck?_

As we enter the room, I notice a single white rose and a note on the dresser. Peeta grabs the handwritten card and begins reading, "For everything you've done for me in the past and for what you're doing for our country now. Snow." He looks back at me, his eyebrows raised. "Personal friend? The President?"

I flop down on the bed. It's a plush, massive king that I could get lost in. "I was part of his personal security detail before Iraq, remember?" I kick off my boots and stare at the crystal chandelier. There's a formal sitting area in the front of the suite with a kitchenette and a dining area. The suite also has two other bedrooms we won't use, along with a bathroom containing a tub big enough for a whole platoon.

"Nice…" I close my eyes, still able to hear the bustle of the streets below us.

"So did I pass?" he asks, flopping down next to me. I crack a curious eye open in response. "Your mom didn't seem to hate me," he observes.

"Are you kidding? Her spinster daughter brought a handsome man home. She loves you!" I sit up, deciding to unpack. I grab my dress blues first, which I'll need to iron.

The sigh of me pulling out a dress grabs Peeta's attention. "I didn't know you could wear skirts," he teases, taking the low cut, silky crimson number from me and measuring it up against himself.

"I can be coerced into wearing them occasionally," I say, tossing it on the hangar and putting it away.

"I'd like to _coerce_ you out of it," he mumbles. I blush and continue working, hoping he can't see me squirm.

"Do you want to go to a bar?" I ask, stripping from my camo pants and donning a tight black skirt. "I know a good one like two blocks from here with really good music. Not the thumping city crap, but jazz."

"Good, here I was thinking you were some city girl now," he jokes, tossing his shirt at me.

"I'll always be a mountain girl," I wink, turning my back to him as I pull my sports bra over my head. I choose a baggy white halter top that exposes most of my back, including my "One Shot, One Kill" tattoo. Once dressed, I let my hair out of its usual braid, running my fingers through the waves.

"You're gorgeous," Peeta tells me, buttoning up a dark red shirt.

"You're not half bad yourself," I smirk, slipping on a low pair of heels and actually applying make-up.

"Damn…" I hand him my ID, money and cell phone since I have no pockets. "Come on, I could use a drink."

He backs me up to the vanity until I find myself sitting on the cold marble, my back up against the mirror. His lips barely brush mine before he pulls himself back, studying my half closed eyes, parted lips and spread legs.

"You're evil…" I whisper.


	11. A Soft Civilian or a Loyal Warrior?

**I had some writers block… Then… Well I wrote this. You might enjoy it, or you may hate me forever. Or you'll love it.**

* * *

"Are you sure you should be drinking…" I don't look at him as my third Red-Headed Slut slides down my throat. Sweet delicious Jager and Grenadine paired perfectly together to taste like cough syrup. I set the glass down and smile as he polishes off his second beer.

"Don't baby me, I outrank you," I take his hands and spin around so my back is to his chest, his arms crossed over my chest.

"We're not in uniform, and I'm bigger than you," he teases. I laugh as he bends back, picking me off the ground. I was getting strange looks, I felt them, considering I was covered in bruises and stitches, but who cares?

He sets me down and we say to the music, beautiful soulful Jazz, as the sweet alcohol take effect. I lean forward and sip at a water Peeta had brought for us. I feel his fingers on my back, tracing my tattoo, "That tickles," I squirm under his touch, my backside grinding up against him accidently.

"And _that_ was mean," he puts his hands on my hips and pulls me to him.

"You started it…" a familiar song starts playing a cover of _Moondance_ by Van Morrison, "Come on," I take him by the hand and lead him away from the tables and the bar onto the dance floor.

"What are you doing?"

"At prom you asked me for a second dance, but I was too scared so I ran back to Madge and her friends," I position his hand on my hip as I lace my fingers with his, my other arm on his back, "I'm giving you that second dance," we start slow, swaying to the music until he spins me, pulling me back into his chest with a soft _oof_. The song comes to an end with me dipped down his face inches from mine.

"We are breaking so many rules…" he whispers as a I feel a bead of sweat drip from my neck down through my breasts.

"Shut up and kiss me," he listens, the taste of beer thick on his lips, I'm sure I taste like cough syrup.

I excuse myself to the bathroom, catching my breath and blotting the sweat from my neck, I cringe at my face. The stitches in my lip making me pout more than usual, the ones above my eyebrow like a thinned caterpillar that refused to move. I tried to position my bangs so I didn't have to see them, so no one would, but nothing would cover that many stitches. I sigh and wash my hands, heading back to Peeta before he thinks I fainted in here.

There are three women sitting next to him when I return, I see one place her hand on his thigh which he brushes off, "Ah, and this is Katniss, my girlfriend," they look disappointed as he kisses me on the lips with a ferocity that lets me know he's ready to move on.

"I'll settle our tab," he kisses my nose.

"I'm going to go wait outside, it's hot in here," I fan myself some more for dramatic affect leaving the club.

I walk outside, the hot June air coating me with sweat, its humid here, nothing like Fallujah heat, the dry sandy heat I'll never admit to missing. There's a hand on my shoulder, "Peeta…" I breathe but I smell the cigarette smoke, the alcohol and without warning I'm pushed into the dark alley next to the bar.

"Hey!" I shout but his hand cover's my mouth.

"You're a pretty little thing, ain't cha?" he pushes me against the wall, unbeknownst to him giving me the advantage in this fight, I put my foot against the wall pushing out without warning, he doesn't know how strong my legs are. He doesn't know I know eight different ways to end his life or cripple him horribly. He doesn't know that just because I'm smaller than him I'm stronger, deadlier. I take two fists of his shirt bending him over before bringing my knee up into his chest enough times that I feel him stumble, I may have hit him in the nose a few times…

"Never engage an enemy without a full recon," I scold walking out of the ally just as Peeta leaves the club.

"Katniss! There's blood on your shirt are you hurt did…" the drunken man who attacked me stumbles out of the dark ally, blood pouring from his nose.

"I-" Peeta's 'protective' mode switches on but I grab his wrist, "Peeta, no, don't undermine the ass kicking I just gave him… He didn't do anything, just pulled me into the alley. Come on, let's go back to the hotel, I need a shower," I give him a small smile and he's a goner, putty in my hands.

"Sorry, I'm not used to women who don't need defending," he took my hand in his and kissed my cheek.

"Oh, someday I'll need defending… You'll know that day when it comes," he kisses me on the cheek, his arm wrapped around me, hand resting just at my hip, I bring my opposite hand up and lace my fingers with his.

The doorman looked at the blood droplets on my shirt, he looked appalled, but said nothing. After all I was covered in stitches, maybe I just busted a few?

I let the water beat down on my body, cooling off my hot sweaty skin before slathering my leg, face and arm in first aid cream, covering the stitches on my arm and leg with white gauze and tape. I don't bother to dry my hair and pull on a t-shirt before leaving the bathroom, tugging it down seeing as it's the only garment I brought into the bathroom.

Laying alone in the king sized bed felt like I was swimming in the ocean as I waited for Peeta to get out of the shower, instead I turn on the news to distract myself.

"And the war in Iraq claims two more lives today, Corporals Lance Davis and Michael Anderson died when an IED blew up their convoy," I exhaled, no one I knew… They were from the Army, so there was even a less chance we ever would cross paths, two more flag covered coffins on their way home…

The bathroom door creaked open and I changed the channel hastily, some CSI show, nothing about soldiers dying, "Hey you," Peeta yawns into the back of my neck as his arms encircle me, "With this big bed I don't have to worry about you hitting me while we're trying to sleep," I yawn.

"Shuddup," I cuddle deeper into his chest, throwing my injured leg over his body just go to get closer.

* * *

I yawned and rolled over to check the time 1100, if we were going to get on a somewhat normal schedule we'd have to get up around now, "Peeta…" he just grunted.

I shifted myself so I was straddling him, "Peeta…" I cooed, running my fingers along his bare chest, enjoying the feeling of his blonde chest hair under my fingers, he cracked an eye and looked down his chest, where my bottomless groin straddled his.

"I could wake up like this more often…" he yawned, looking disappointed as I got off him and headed to the bathroom, trying to hide my blush.

"Just wait until we get to Baghdad," I close the door behind me, pressing my back against it. What was going to happen in Baghdad? I had a feeling that the second we landed I'd be in a hole for days at a time. Could I do that to him?

I pushed off the door and stared at my reflection, my bruises had faded and blended with my skin and my stitches were good to come out, at least in my face, my arm and leg would remain stitched for another week or so.

I brushed my teeth and gingerly washed my face before pulling out tweezers and nail clippers, gently I felt at my forehead, wincing a little.

"I'll leave you there until tomorrow…" I sighed before snipping off the knot at my lip and gently pulling away the black thread, cleaning the site with water and rubbing in Neosporin. I still looked like a train wreck, hell I was a train wreck!

"What are you doing…" I whispered to myself, "There's a guy out there who genuinely likes you and you're trying to find every flaw to turn him away." I closed the lid on the toilet and sat, pulling my leg up and resting my head on my knee.

I sighed, "Why he's not going after some soft civilian is beyond me…"

"You didn't really just ask that… Did you?" I jumped.

"H-how long have you been here?"

Peeta smiled sheepishly as I grew hot with embarrassment, "Long enough," he sits on the edge of the tub, taking my hand, "Katniss… look at me," I turn away, tears coming to my eyes.

_Why… God damnit why!_

He's not smiling, I don't need to look at him to feel his frown, "Sergeant Everdeen look at me, that's an order," his voice is stern, but brings a smile to my face, and eventually his frown softens into a half smile.

"There we go…" he squeezes my hand while I turn to face him, "Katniss, if I _wanted_ to be miserable I would be with some soft civilian. If I _wanted_ to spend my life with someone I couldn't relate to, or who would press me for what I've seen like my family does instead of understanding that something's you just let be… I would give my heart to some squishy soft civilian who couldn't disassemble and reassemble a sniper rifle blind folded, who wouldn't run herself half to death just to prove to a few idiots she wasn't a pushover. Someone who wouldn't lay her life down for her little sister without question…"

I bite my lip nodding, taking his words in. He didn't see me as many of our counterparts did, an emotional liability who shouldn't be handed a gun, in his eyes I was a fearless warrior, lethal but only to those who'd do innocents harm.

"Semper Fidelis…" I mumble, he just nods.

"Always loyal," he kisses my cheek, and I feel it, a fire deep within my core, burning for him, "Now… stop hogging the bathroom," he picks me up and sets me just outside the bathroom, "Women…" I roll my eyes.

I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to abate the fire in my heart, in my soul which only seemed to grow stronger each second the door to the bathroom remained closed. In Germany I told Peeta I wasn't ready to fully be intimate with him, though he confessed he was, and was for a while. Truthfully it was because I was afraid I was the wrong choice for him, that a civilian's lips and arms would be better suited for him.

But that wasn't the truth, much like myself Peeta needed someone strong, he knew could take care of herself.

He needed me.

I stood up as the door opened, as if on auto-pilot, crossing the short distance on poised hunter's feet. I caught him off guard, my hands on his bare chest, pushing him into the wall.

His shocked eyes studied me as I got up on my toes, my lips meeting his hungrily as my fingers ran through his barely regulation length blonde hair, "You need another haircut, soldier," I mumbled against his lips before he lifted my leg up to his hip, pulling my body even tighter against his.

"Don't insult me," I grinned against his lips, most Marines would cringe when being called soldier, those in the Army were soldiers, we were _technically_ part of the Navy. Our lips tangled, wrestling together as our lustful hands explored each and every part of our bodies, his hands, large and strong resting on my backside as we pull apart, "What's this about?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"I want you…" I breathe, pressing my lips to his once more, but his are unresponsive, "What?" I ask studying his face, littered with concern.

"What if we make a mistake, and you end up pregnant? They'll kick you out so fast, tear up your contract…"

He's right, the Marine Corps is my life, but I smile, "Please, like I'm not on the pill," I roll my eyes and this time his lips come to mine. His fingers tangle in my knotted hair as he slowly directs me back to the bed, stopping only when the back of my legs meet the soft sheets. Our lips only break when he lifts my shirt over my head. I feel his eyes on me and go to cover myself shyly but I ball up and release my hands. No hiding, instead I go on the offensive tugging at the elastic band of the flannel pants he wears, they slip off without effort and there we stand for the first time in the early afternoon sunlight.

Naked as the day we were born, sizing up each other for a split second before our adventurous lips and hands went at it again. Slowly he lowered me onto the bed but he remained standing. I knew what he wanted, I may be inexperienced, but I could read him. I shifted so I was laying on my stomach, his arousal waiting for my touch, for my lips to be around it. I knew when we finally got there that it was going to hurt, I was ok with it, the pain. Nothing worth having comes without a little pain.

Our eyes met before I flicked the tip with my tongue, he groaned, his hand back in my hair as I kissed it then slowly but surely taking him into my mouth little by little. His eyes were so dark, so loving as he moaned my name. Just hearing it sent chills over my skin, I shifted slightly, feeling the moisture grow between my legs. He didn't let me go for very long before pushing me off and directing me so I was laying with my head resting against the pillow.

I was so focused on his eyes, his beautiful eyes that I was caught off guard by his fingers slipping inside me, "Shhhh…" he cooed, smoothing down my hair as he pulled them out only to push in again, "You're so tight… I'm afraid I'll hurt you," he admits kissing me lightly.

"Nothing worth having comes without a little pain," I whisper against his lips, gasping when he trusts his fingers into me with more force. His lips leave mine, trailing down my chin, my neck, my chest, finally he reaches my abdomen. I squirm, realizing his intentions.

"Please?" he asks as I squirm some more, realizing it's been a good week since I bothered shaving down there. He must read my mind because he sighs, his chin resting on my abdomen, "Katniss, you're a twenty-two year old woman, you should have hair down here," he thrusts his fingers again though I have his hand pinned between my thighs. He could have easily pried them open, but he waited for me to part my legs. Without hesitation his tender lips trailed down my toned abdomen, I squirmed a little more but kept my legs parted when his lips reached the patch of dark hair I was so worried about, he didn't hesitate, he didn't even seem to mind it before he bit gently on my inner lips. His fingers had halted inside me for a moment, but as his tongue found my awaiting clitoris they began slowly moving in and out.

I was blinded, partly by the rays of sun coming through the open window, mostly though from the fact that as his tongue slid over me I saw white. All my brain focused on was the wave of pleasure that crashed over me, forgetting to hear, to see, to smell, to taste, only to feel.

I moaned and writhed as I felt a tightening of my insides, like a hot coil winding tighter and tighter awaiting release. It came without warning, like a shock through my core. From my scalp all the way down my to my toes every nerve ending fired as I was vaguely aware of my screaming of Peeta's name.

As I came down from my orgasm I saw Peeta on his knees between my legs. He took my hand in his, kissing each fingertip as I whispered an almost pathetic _'Please'_. He didn't need to be told twice…

I heard my cry as I felt my insides stretching, I felt him freeze… he was afraid of hurting me… But everything was so sensitive down there post orgasm.

He supported his weight with one arm, his other hand still clutching mine, I took his hand and kissed his fingers, tasting myself on them. I took his index finger in my mouth as the rest of his hand cupped my jaw. We were frozen for barely a minute as I cleaned my arousal from his fingers and he waited for my body to adjust then slowly, when the pain washed away he began to slowly thrust in and out.

"So… tight…" he grunted, I had since released his hand from my grasp and it rested at my side, his fingers bunching the sheets underneath us. His movements became more daring, pulling out almost all the way only to crash into me with enough force our skin slapped together and I slid further up the bed.

"You're…" another thrust and my head met the pillow which was pressed against the mahogany headboard, "…Evil" I moan as he continues this only two thrusts before he pulls me up so I'm clutched against his chest. I wrap my legs around him before moves forward, pressing my back against the tall headboard. One hand supports me, the other reaches for the top of the headboard for leverage as he begins thrusting again, our lips sloppily brushing against each other's as our moans and pants of each other's names mixed with the sound of the headboard hitting the wall.

I felt so full, so perfect, so beautiful.

Peeta's eyes hungry on me, his firm hand keeping me from sliding down, as if his thrusts wouldn't do just that.

Without warning the phone began ringing, "Just ignore it…" I panted but Peeta had other ideas leaning over and picking up the receiver, placing it in my hand after answering, "H-hello?" I asked, my voice hoarse from the moaning.

"Miss Everdeen… Oh wait, sorry, _Sergeant_ Everdeen?" Peeta picks this exact moment to push me forward only slightly so I grinde into him, letting a soft moan escape, "Oh forgive me!" my eyes widen, whoever this was knew what we were doing… Fear gripped me as I was made more and more aware that he was still inside me, "You must still be on Iraq time, just waking up!" it was late morning in Fallujah, but whatever.

I sighed in relief, "Don't worry about it," he does it again, but I stifle a moan, giving him a death glare.

"Is your companion there? The… erm…" I hear papers rustling as the surely flighty woman on the other end of the phone tries to figure out Peeta's name and rank, "Sergeant Mellark?"

"He's…" I look him over, "…Occupied… Who is this?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Effie Trinket, secretary to President Coriolanus Snow. He asks if the suite is to your liking?"

Growing bored Peeta thrusts again, "It's… too much," he takes this as a sign to continue the slow grinding from earlier.

"Stretching?" she asks, I feel the blush come to my cheeks, "Guess you have to stay fit. The president would be honored for you and Sergeant Mellark to join him this afternoon at three," I didn't even think, Peeta's grinding becoming too much for me. If I didn't get off the phone soon I wouldn't be able to stop the moans. He leans forward, kissing my neck as if to make me hang up.

"Yeah, yeah sure… We'll be there…"

"Oh good, he has requested you in your…" more rustling, "Evening blues? Does that make sense to you?"

"Y… yes…" I moaned as Peeta continued kissing at my neck.

"Good, I'll be at your suite at 2:15 to pick you up. See you then!" the line goes dead and I hang up the phone and toss it to the floor. We don't last much longer after that, not bothering to switch positions, he thrusts deeply into me, biting and sucking on my neck surely to leave marks. His body quivers as his seed spills deep within me, his lips once again on mine, our tongues exploring each other's mouths, tracing the fronts of the other's teeth. Finally I pull off him, we lay down as our chests heave with labored breaths, both our bodies covered in sweat.

"So who…" he kisses from my hand up my arm, "Was on the phone?"

"No one special… Oh we're meeting President Snow today at three."

He sits up, all post-coital bliss washed away with a wave of confusion.

I sit up on my elbow's, "Well… They want us in our Sunday best… So I'm assuming it's to show the President's support for his brave men and women fighting for what's right, epically since next year is his re-election," I blow a raspberry, "So _you_ have a lot of ironing to do," instead he pulls me to him, cradling me in his lap.

"That was amazing…" he sighs into my hair, "Your moans… how my name sounds when you come, how you taste…"

"Taste?" I look up at him but he only licks his lips, "Perv…" I push his head away and check the clock, it was almost 1300. Miss Trinket was coming to pick us up at 2:15, "Come on, I saw how wrinkled your blues were," I slip from his grasp running to the bathroom, "And if you don't get up I'll have to shower alone…"

He doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

**Well? Review! Tell me what you thought!**


	12. The Oath

"I look like a waitress…"

"Yeah… You really do, either that or a school teacher," he lifts up my skirt, "One that does not wear underwear," I pushed the last bobby pin in my bun as he smoothed my skirt out.

"No underwear lines," I smirk, "And _no _not all female marines go… Commando…" I rubbed foundation into my face, avoiding my stitches, "Do you want some?" I ask noticing he's staring.

"You seem oddly calm for someone the president requested an audience with," I lean into the mirror and put on just enough eyeliner to give my eyes some definition.

"I've pointed a gun in the direction of President Coriolanus Snow more times than I can count," I walk out to the bedroom, my heels making a soft click the whole way, "I've watched the man's beard grow through my scope," I smile, watching him finally iron his pants, "There is nothing about President Snow that worries me," I take a cloth and begin polishing my buttons and the few medals I've been awarded. One for marksmanship, one for my defense of the President, and one though I was pretty sure was just for show, was for my defense of the country. Guess sitting up in rafters and catwalks counts as national defence.

1410, Miss Trinket should be here in five minutes. I shrug on my jacket buttoning it up and straightening out my buttons, medals and bars, "How do I look?" I looked up, Peeta was fastening his belt around the waist of his coat, straightening it out perfectly.

There was something about a man in blues… Especially when he was my man.

I walked to him, straightening out his medal for his service in Afghanistan, "Perfect, except, no saber," I pouted, he leaned in and kissed me lightly, just as the door knocked.

"Sabers are only for special occasions," I rolled my eyes, walking across the sitting area to the door.

"Miss Trinket?" the person on the other side of the door had a head full of tight blonde curls that made her hair big, like really big, she wore a pale pink suit with white trim and white open toe heels, very very high heels.

"Sergeant Everdeen, it's a pleasure," she kissed both my cheeks, barging into our hotel suite.

"I thought pink suits were a fashion faux pas…" she looked back, confused, "You know, after JFK? Jackie-O?"

"Ah… Well, as it turns out that only applies to convertibles in Dallas," she made herself comfortable on the couch, running her finger over the coffee table to check for dust.

Ugh, how do I address Peeta? Sergeant Mellark? Just Mellark? Peeta?

"Mellark! Hurry up you're keeping the lady waiting," I heard his footsteps coming from the master bedroom.

"Oh my…" Effie started, "Yum…"

"Please miss Trinket, he's taken," I tell her without thinking. Peeta cocks an eyebrow as Effie goes to him, straightening out his bars.

"Special lady back home, yes?"

"Well, she's from my home town, but she lives here in DC," she straightens the insignia's on his collar.

"Oh wonderful, I'm sure she was the first to visit," I roll my eyes and Peeta shoots me a pleading look.

"You actually just missed her Miss…"

"Trinket, Effie Trinket," I'm not sure how Peeta hasn't decked her yet, "And that is just dreadful, I would love to shake the hand of a woman willing to put her heart on the line," I'm not sure what happened to Snow's old secretary, but this one knew just how to say exactly the wrong thing, "Now, shall we get going? We have a big, big afternoon ahead of us!"

She sits in between Peeta and I in the back of a surely bullet proof Suburban talking endlessly about how honored Snow is that we could make it, because we'd deny an invite from the president ever.

We enter the White House and immediately security is on us, "Ma'am spread your arms, lets shoulder width apart," they don't even ask to frisk me, if I want a female agent as their hands pat down my arms, my torso, and my legs, scrunching my skirt so they can feel I have nothing strapped to me.

"They're good."

"Just formalities," Effie is handed her clipboard, "Yes… yes… Tell him we're here… Right this way you two," she lead us effortlessly through the winding halls full of mirrors and pictures and secret alert buttons I only knew about because of my security clearance and because party guests tend to set off at least six a night. There were no personal pictures in this part of the White House, those were saved for upstairs, a place I have never seen. This half was regal, professional, everything the leader of the free world's house should look like. I could hear it from the hallway, the beautiful classical music that always streamed from the old record player in Snow's office. Peeta seemed to only marvel at every individual accent of the house, a house who's floor plan I had almost memorized.

"Knock knock!" Effie slowly opened the door to the office.

"Yes… Well they'll never be happy with anything I do or say, those are just the facts," Snow was still on the phone, "Listen, come re-election we'll see what _big plans_ those windbags have in mind," he hangs up without a goodbye.

"Ah wonderful!" he stands up, President Snow, a sixty three year old man, had hair as white as his namesake, and a beard that made my sister laugh, "Sergeant Everdeen, Sergeant Mellark," he salutes us and we mirror his movements. A proper US Military salute, finger tips just barely off the edge of the eyebrow, close but not touching, "We are honored to have you safe and sound back on American soil."

"It's an honor to be here," Peeta starts, "We were taken aback when Miss Trinket called inviting us here."

_Yeah, that's EXACTLY what we were feeling when you shoved the phone in my face mid act._

He smiles at his secretary who is back flipping through her clipboard, that's when I see them… How could I miss them? Two men with cameras. Pre-election publicity… Clever man.

Snow shook both our hands, kissing mine and holding Peeta's as he began to speak, "When we heard two of our own were missing in such hostile territory," _only hostile when one of my men kills a child…_ "The whole country seemed to hold its breath, waiting for news that the dust storm had cleared and you were safe. When we got word that you, Sergeant Mellark, ran back to find Sergeant Everdeen… We were at a loss for words," he smiled, "Especially after seeing what was left of the building that collapsed."

"I didn't know what I would find, but if there was a chance to save my-" he hesitated for only a second, just fast enough to not blow our cover, "Sergeant, I knew I had to take it," Snow's other hand came up, pressing against the back of Peeta's, perfect time of a picture… Or twelve.

"Such bravery… Which is why, for your selflessness and sacrifice, I award you with this," he finally let's go, and reaches for a wooden box. When he opens it inside is a Navy and Marine Corps Medal, an award for lifesaving, or an attempt at a lifesaving act where your own life is at risk and a Purple Heart most likely for me considering I was shot, not by the enemy, not on purpose, but it would make a good picture for a man who wants to be re-elected next year. He pins the medal to Peeta's chest, "This young woman was sworn to protect me, even at the cost of her own life, you've never taken such an oath to Sergeant Everdeen, yet you were compelled to do so… Why?"

Well… shit.

"It's my duty, sir, to protect and serve. To leave no man or woman behind," Snow smiles, pleased by this, giving the medal a pat and turning his attention to me.

"We never want one of our own to become the enemy, but on that fateful day in Fallujah, when you took that bullet it became an unfortunate reality," I didn't get the fancy speech, a thanks for my service and the purple medal attached to my uniform.

"Thank you, sir," he backed up and saluted both of us, yet again we mirrored his movements… A perfect photo-op.

"No, thank you, both of you… I know you'll do your country proud Monday when the trial starts," he takes my hand and pulls me close, patting my back as if hugging me, "There is to be no doubt that our involvement in the Middle-East is absolutely necessary after the trial… Do you understand Sergeant Everdeen?"

"Yes, Mister President, sir…" I say quietly, wondering how far he wants me to go, does he want me to gush about how much we're helping over there? Helping get civilians killed, people's children sent home in coffins.

His words hung with me for the rest of the day.

"Get me out of this thing," I huffed as I kicked my heels off my feet, pulling at my choking collar, the door wasn't even closed behind us when I hiked my skirt up and pulled off my panty-hose, throwing them on the couch where I hoped they burned in hell. The next to go off was my jacket, which joined Peeta's laid out flat so it wouldn't wrinkle.

"So… what to do tonight?" he asks scooping me up in his arms.

"Room service and HBO? Maybe go for a walk later? A drink or two?" I look at the clock, it's 1800, just barely dinner time.

He sets me down in our room, a small smile playing at his lips, "Why don't you help me out of this skirt?" I ask, making it look difficult to find the zipper.

"Why don't you wear the pants?" he asks, pulling the zipper down so I can step out of the black fabric.

I just shrug, "I could be persuaded to wear them," I pull the neck tab off and throw it over my shoulder, "Someday we'll get the real coats, with the real collars, and belts," I go to unbutton the white shirt, but he's already on me, pulling the pins from my hair so it falls freely.

"Beautiful…" he whispers just as I pop the last button.

"You're not too bad yourself…"

He strokes my cheek with his callused thumb, taking every inch of me in as I gingerly unfasten his buttons, I lean into his touch, so simple yet so powerful, "I want to make love to you…" he whispers, tucking my hair behind my ear, "From sunrise to sunset… then until the sun rises one more…" he pulls me to him, "Earlier… I should have shown more restraint, to make our first time together not just some… fuck," my heart sank, what we did earlier was beautiful, merging the lines that separated our bodies.

"Was… was that all earlier was to you?" I asked, "Just… just some fuck?" my eyes watered, something so special to me, so simplified by him.

"No… no, Katniss don't be sad, I mean that I should have taken the time to show you just how much I care about not just… Well, slam you up against the headboard and nail you."

I roll my eyes, silly boy, "Peeta… Everything earlier, was perfect. It wasn't just 'some fuck' to me, it was being as close to you as humanly possible. Granted you shoved a phone in my face and continued the act while I was on the phone…"

He grinned, "I'm not sure what came over me," I unbutton his pants letting them fall to the ground so we're both only standing in our white button ups, though I had a bra on and he was in his boxers, "It _was_ kind of kinky," I put my hand on his forehead and push his head back before turning my back to him and shrugging off the white shirt, throwing it at him as I ran for the bed, "hey… No fair!"

"So you're a _real_ Marine," I took a swig of my Corona, keeping a watchful eye on the blonde next to my boyfriend, puffing her chest out to show off her artificial assets, she did that thing where women flip their hair behind their shoulders.

"Well yes I-" but she stops him, "My friend and I love a man in uniform… I'm Tiffany, my friend wants to know if you'd be interested in coming back to our table to tell us all your brave war stories," she purrs, her hand is on his thigh, inching up, he goes to swat her hand off but my hand is faster.

"Wha… Hey!" she hisses as I squeeze.

"You should tell your friend that she needs to learn not to be pushy," she goes to pull away, but I hold tighter, "No respectable service man or woman would go around bragging about what they did or saw while in uniform. Now, why don't you do yourself a favor and take your bad dye job and those water balloons you call your breasts back to your friend and tell her not to send you to hit on a man for her," I let her go finally, "Especially someone else's man," my hand found my beer again as she scurried off.

"I'm sorry… that seemed… a little possessive, but I hate when people think just because you have a uniform means you have stories for everyone to hear…" I took a swig feeling the liquid slide down my throat.

He puts his arm around me and pulls me close, "I should have told her right away, sorry…" he kisses the top of my head.

I smirk, "Like she would have let you get a word in… Listen hun, the only chance you would have had to get her to shut up was when your dick was in her mouth," he chokes a little on his beer.

"I'd rather it be in yours with your beautiful grey eyes looking up at me," I blushed and elbowed him, "Plus did you see her teeth? They were big and fake…" he took a swig of his own drink, "She should be worrying about blowing some greasy senator…" he grumbled, but said no more. We wouldn't discuss politics, not now and hopefully not ever.

I set my empty down, with a wave of my hand, a flick of the wrist but no more a bartender came by, "Two more," she quickly flicked the cap off each of the bottles inserted a lime in the top and handed them to us, "What do we drink to?" I ask shoving my lime in the bottle after giving it a good squeeze.

"How about… To the people who are going to have to hear us tonight?"

We clanked the necks of our bottles together as I chuckled, "_You_ have only one thing on your mind…"

"Yes, getting as much out of you as possible before we go back to Iraq and you're my superior once… Although…"

"Peeta?" I hold my bottle in two hands, rubbing my thumb over the condensation, "Can we not talk about Baghdad while we're here? I know it's going to be difficult… To fulfill certain needs in our relationship but…"

"Woah… woah woah, Katniss, sex isn't a need in our relationship, it's an addition, albeit one I'll be sad to miss for a few months until our deployment ends…" I nod, "But you're more than some fuck, much more," I lean in and kiss him, they're soft, loving… Something I never imagined I'd feel, "Katniss?" he asks when our lips part.

"Mhm?"

"I know it's not official... But," he hesitates as i stare confused before taking his hand, offering a small reassuring smile, "I sware, as long as my heart still beats I'll do everything in my power to make sure you come home alive... Even at the cost of my own life..."

My heart drops, Peeta Mellark, the boy who fed my family when my mother couldn't, the boy who I watched from afar grow into the strong powerful man, the man who saved my life not even a week ago, was willing to give his life for me.

"Peeta..." I can't argue, his lips are on mine again, sealing the deal.

Sergeant Mellark was would die for me if the situation arises.


	13. What He Died For, What I Fight For

My cellphone woke us up at eight in the morning, "Let it go to voicemail…" Peeta grumbled, pulling me close.

"I can't, it could be Prim," his arms relaxed, he didn't need to be told twice, the screen showed my mother's number, "Hello?" I asked rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Good morning, hey I was wondering if you and Peeta wanted to come by for dinner tonight, say around five?" my mother asked.

"Yeah… yeah sure," I yawned, "need us to bring anything?" I began undoing my braid, fluffing my hair as Peeta's hand traced my spine through my USMC t-shirt, finally sneaking under the hem to snap my bra loudly, "Ouch…" I look down at him, his eyes are still closed but he's grinning like a fiend.

"Oh no, see you tonight!"

"See ya," I toss my phone onto the chair near the bed before pushing Peeta onto his back and straddling him, "So, are we going back to bed or getting up now?"

He yawned like a lion and pulled me to him, "Neither…" he yawned rolling me over to spoon me properly. His one hand reached under my shirt to unfasten my bra which I took as a silent command to slip out of the only two pieces of clothing I was wearing pushing them to the side of the bed before pressing my back into his bare chest. I whimpered as he pinched my nipple lazily.

"I could wake up like this more often…" I yawned, "I mean, with your hands on me, not the call from my mother…"

He moved my hair and began kissing the back of my neck, "But our days are numbered, well, at least until our deployment is over… Then I'm off to my folks until I go down to Lejeune for the rest of my contract," I shiver after he says this, the tip of his tongue only barely tickling the back of my neck, "Even then, I'll probably have to live on the base, not sure I want to tie myself to North Carolina just yet…"

I roll over, not sure I'm actually about to say the words in my head. His eyes are open now, staring at me curiously though never leaving mine even without the shirt, "I'll be stationed down there as well… You could… Live with me if you wanted. My mom and sister already have a house down there… They're moving in a week or so."

"You're asking me to live with you?" he twists some of my hair around his finger and I bite my lip.

"If you don't want to I understand…"

He kisses my nose, "If you don't hate me by the time our deployment ends Katniss, I'd be honored," he reaches an arm over me and spanks me, laughing as I jump, "Now come on, let's go for a run."

I gather my hair into a braid, standing in our room in only my sports bra and shorts, a very loose and old USMC t-shirt waiting to go on over my clothes. The sleeves had holds into hem so I took them off, cutting down so it was basically only a cover for my modesty.

"Here take my foot," Peeta looks at me confused as I lift my leg in front of me, "Now lift my leg up so it's almost over your shoulder."

I smirk as he swallows, doing as I want until my foot rests just under his shoulder, "Ok, now the other… Does this make you feel awkward?" I ask as he helps me stretch.

"No not at all, no guy in the world is turned on by a flexible girl," I drop my foot to the ground, rolling my eyes.

"I'm in such better shape than you," he taunts as we round the corner onto Pennsylvania Ave.

"Maybe, but I could probably shoot an apple off your head from over a mile away," I remind him.

"Let's never test that, please," I just shrug, keeping pace with Peeta though I have to take about one and a half strides for his one. We get closer to the fence surrounding the white house when we see them. Two men in camo with bags over their heads, a cardboard box with a flag on wrapped around it, and a good ten or so more protestors holding various signs, "Great…" he mumbles as we near the crowd, both of us wearing USMC shirts seeing as they're basically all we own.

"Don't let the government fool you!" one of the bagged people start, "There are no WMD's!"

I roll my eyes, maybe he's right, but it's not my job, nor is it Peeta's to question orders. The 'coffin' is moved to block our path, to halt us so we stop. I look at the flag, the flag I fight for basically being thrown around like a snot rag.

"Peeta, help me with this," I ask quietly going to pull the flag off the box.

"You can't touch that!" a woman hisses at me, grabbing at my hand. I don't react other than to pull the fabric off the box. It's about my full wingspan but we fold it in half, then in half again. Flag folding is a grim duty of the servicemen, only done at funerals. It usually takes a few people to get it perfect but soon enough we have the stars out, stripes tucked in a perfect triangle only seeing blue and white.

I hand the woman the flag, "My father died for this flag, we risk our lives every day for this flag. I know you don't agree with the war, you don't have to you're an American, you have the right to disagree with your government… But you _never_ drag this flag on the ground like some two year old toting around a blanket. Have _some_ respect for the men and women dying in the name of it." The protesters are silent. Our actions wouldn't change their minds, I didn't want them to.

Finally one speaks up, "How can you fight for a country that's ok with killing kids?" they hold up a paper from about a week ago about how an American, Marvel, shot an Iraqi girl, Rue.

Peeta puts his arm in front of me, we're here representing the armed forces, not to pick a fight, "We don't fight for a country that says it's alright to kill children, or civilians, and we'll be damned if Marvel isn't rotting behind bars. Come on Katniss…" we leave the protesters a little stunned by our actions but soon regain our composure, "That was pretty ballsy of you…"

I smile, "Thanks… I just, I understand their anger, but…" I groan, I had already spoken about this, he knew what I was going to say. I heard my phone ringing in my pocket, "Aw come on…" this time it was Prim, "Hey what's up little duck?" I ask still jogging.

"Katniss! I don't have school today… Can we maybe meet up?"

"Yeah sure, what did you have in mind?" I ask now slowed to a walk as we lay down in the shade In Lafyette Square.

"Maybe grab some lunch and go to a museum before we're down in a cultural waste land known as North Carolina," I wince, she still hasn't warmed to the move.

"Definitely, we're actually out on a run, but we'll be back soon… how does twelve hundred sound?" I ask she groans.

"you and your fancy _military time_. No problem, where are you staying?"

I pick at some grass, "The St. Regis? Just ask the front desk to call up when you're here," I tell her, drinking in a sweaty Peeta, licking my lips a little.

"Ew, why, don't want me to walk in on you jumping Sergeant Mellark's bones?" she teases.

"Actually yeah, I gotta go Prim, see you soon…"

"Wait… what! Katniss!"

"Love you!" I hang up and shove the phone back in my pocket, "Prim wants to spend the day with us, I hope that's ok," he just smiles and kisses my forehead. I guess so.

The rest of our run goes uneventful, no more protestors, no phone calls. Just Peeta and I on a quiet run with the morning sun beating down on us.

When we get back to the suite room service has already been through hanging our dress blues on hangars in and placing them on coat hooks. On the table was a folded card.

_-Thank you_

I smiled, at least someone appreciated what we were doing, "How much time do we have until your sister gets here?" Peeta asked as the shower turned on.

"Like… Noonish?" the water shut off.

"Then get over here," I pull my sweaty shirt over my head, then throw away my sports bra. My pants and underwear are next, falling in my wake as I walk to an awaiting Peeta. I barely brush my lips against his before walking over to the massive tub and turning the faucet on.

"We should at least use it once…" I turn the faucet to just the right temperature, not to warm, not too cool. I watch him shrug off his clothes as I sit on the cool marble counter between the two sinks.

He comes over to me, now completely naked one hand on the mirror to support his weight the other spreading my legs apart. His touch is feather light, but enough to spark a fire, "You're perfect…" he mumbles against my lips.

"Then you need to get your eyes checked," he slides two fingers inside me in response, I gasp as his kisses deepen, our tongues sliding together, wrestling for dominance. My hand found his throbbing erection, hard and thick just waiting for me and only me, that thought was enough to bring me from wet to soaked.

"Peeta!" I gasp when he adds a third, my movement on his cock becoming less than regular, more like jerky half motions. I push his hand away, he had spent so much time yesterday pleasuring me, I could only to the same today. I pushed his hand out of me, immediately feeling the vacancy. He steps back as I slip from the counter and crouch down in front of him. He smiles but it disappears into a groan as I take him in my mouth.

"Mmmm" I groan against him as I take in his taste, he's sweaty, but still there's something about it that gets me so… hot. He braces himself against the counter as I timidly fondle his package, being careful not to be too rough with him. I can tell when he's getting close, and I give him one last long lick before pulling up, I'm dripping wet, enough that it runs down my legs.

"Please?" I ask pouting getting back on the counter but he pulls me off turning me around and forcing me to bend over.

"Someday soon I'll make love to you…" he says spreading my legs a little and gripping my hips, "Now is not the time though. I watch him in the mirror, his large muscular form gripping my smaller toned form before he guides himself in. I gasp my eyes squeezing shut as I moan, but his hands are in my hair, jerking my head up rough and ginger at the same time. My eyes snap open, "Keep your eyes open while I fuck you…" he purrs. I nod against his hand feeling the strands of my black hair pull, it sends a lightning jerk across my skin. I hate to admit it, but I loved when he pulled on my hair.

The room was filled with the sounds of our moans, well his moans, my almost screams as soon as he brought his hand forward to rub my clit. I studied his face, loving and thoughtful, but still so lustful as he studied my body. Lust he only felt for me, or so I hoped.

I felt my orgasm begin to build quickly with the addition of his thrusts, each one hitting me in just the right spot. The only thing keeping me up when it finally came was his hand in my hair which stayed firm as my body jerked around and fell forward as he pushed me further and further over the edge until I felt his thrusts become more frantic and finally he crashed into me, spilling his milky white seed deep within my core. He leans forward, his sweaty chest resting against my equally sweaty back as we breathe together, somehow syncing up until we're breathing slow and even once more. He pulls from me, shutting the bath water off and handing me a wad of toilet tissue as the product of our 'fucking' now runs down my legs.

"Here, I made a mess of you I'll clean you up," he tells me before I can argue wiping me clean, much to my embarrassment.

"I'm not four, I can wipe my own bottom," I jerk up, in just enough time for him to throw the semen covered tissue in my face, "Peeta!" I squeal not willing to continue with _this_ shenanigan I toss the paper in the trashcan as he scoops me up and lowers me into the water, it's a little warm but will cool off eventually. He gets in behind me, effortlessly moving me so I can lay comfortably against his wet chest. We just lay there, relaxing until a memory comes back to me.

"Remember… Back in basic when they'd have us wearing everything… Then jump in the pool?" I ask I can feel his laughter viberate through him.

"That was the worst… Then they'd tell you to go under and attack you," I nod, honestly that was fun for me.

"I liked it, except treading water in Kevlar," I could almost _feel_ Peeta roll his eyes.

His hands found my breasts, giving them a light squeeze that made me yelp, "But you have these to keep you up," I blush, I don't have a large chest, backside or womanly curves, instead I'm one hundred and thirty five pounds of muscle and the thick black hair on my head. I don't have an hourglass figure, if anything I'm boyish. Prim has the ideal figure, curves, everything. She takes after my mother, I on the other hand am the spitting image of our father.

"I don't have much of _those…_"

"You have just enough, perfect handfuls, anything more is a waste," I turn my head a little to rest my ear against his chest to hear his heart beating, all the while marveling at how he just knows how to say the right thing at the right time.

We relax for only a short while before getting in the shower to clean off, "You have so much hair…" he says massaging my scalp with the foamy shampoo.

"Yeah, so do you," I tease while I shave my legs, for whatever reason feeling perfectly comfortable doing this in front of him, no matter how unflattering.

"Hey," he runs his hands through my slippery hair, "It's still in regulation, not longer than three inches," I chuckle and stand up straight so the showerhead could beat down on me. The best part of this bathroom? The showers were behind the tub, separated by a glass wall with two separate heads.

"So why are you bathing me?" I ask as he works conditioner in my hair.

"I've been done for a while and I like seeing you naked?" the corners of my mouth upturn only slightly in a smile, "What? I couldn't stand around and gawk, you may feel awkward," I lather my body with soap, facing away as I rub my hands over my breasts.

"You're crafty… or perverted…" I tell him rinsing off.

The phone rings exactly at noon, "Hello?" Peeta asks, answering the call, "Sure, send her up," he hangs up the phone, "A Miss Primrose Everdeen is at the front desk," I finish up my mascara just as the door knocks.

"Can you get that babe?" I ask going to tame my now dry hair.

"Kat, seriously?" he dangles my underwear on his finger.

"Just… shove it in the couch, or throw it in a corner or something!" I grin braiding my hair, instead he snaps it in my direction, ignoring everything else.

"Peeta!" I watch from the doorway as Prim wraps her arms around him. Every ounce of girliness I was denied when my mother and father's chromosomes divided then form met up in my mother's womb almost twenty three years ago was transferred to Prim.

"Hey Prim, Katniss'll be out in a minute."

"Woooowwwww," she gasps, "_This_ is where you're staying?" she asks.

"Yeah!" I walk out of the room still in my underwear stepping into a white sundress, I could be girly just this once, "We could have had butler service… But…" I flop down on the couch, pulling my socks on and then cowboy boots, "We figured that would be a little much."

"Please, because one couple needs… how many bedrooms are in here?"

"The Corps can't know we're a couple, Prim…" Peeta says sadly, "It would mean we'd get separated, sometimes different platoons, sometimes whole separate posts… Plus it could be a lot of harassment from the men for your sister," I nod and pick the lint from my skirt and grabbing my aviators from the coffee table, they're scuffed and dusty from our day under the building, they're mine and they're perfect.

"Yeah so they gave us enough rooms so we could cohabit peacefully and not be kept up by someone's snoring… Sergeant Mellark," I start handing him my usual ID's, phone and money, then the room key.

"I do not snore, Sergeant Everdeen," he closes the door behind us as my sister just chuckles.

"You two are so cute," she smiles as we enter the sunlight, both putting on our sunglasses at the same time, "Even with your mean drill sergeant glasses on."

We eat lunch at a small bistro by the Museum of Natural History, enjoying the sunshine but soon not the muggy humidity, "I never thought I'd miss Iraq…" I grumble, twirling pasta around my fork.

"Right? It's like living in a sauna," Peeta pulls at his collar as Prim looks at us shocked.

"It's not bad, seriously. You two are crazy. I bed you'd rather be in your full fatigues and bullet proof vests and helmets baking in the sun," we look at each other, "No!" she points her fork at me, "Bad Katniss!" I put my hands up defensively.

"I'm not goin' back again after this tour… Maybe my next deployment will be to Afghanistan, or maybe Germany? Or even somewhere in Asia?" I chewed my food swallowing it.

Prim didn't say anything else, but I knew more was coming, she'd just release it when she had our mother to back her up, "So… Will you be home for Christmas?"

"Not unless I can get a leave, but after this… Doubtful. We can always Skype?"

She just sighs, making me feel guilty, "Have you spoken to _Rory?_" I say his name like a girl swooning.

"Yeah, he and I have a date when I get down there," she teases.

"Aren't you a little young to date?" Peeta asks, crossing his arms over his chest his voice filled with a father like concern.

"I'm seventeen, in a few months I'll be old enough to enlist and-"

"No, don't even joke about that. What ever happened to going to med school?"

"Med School?"

I smile and nod, "Prim's crazy smart, I know she can do it…"

"Just have to figure out how to pay for it…" she says glumly.

"There are schollarships out there for crazy things, I'm sure you can get a ton of money for being related to two Purple Heart recipients, and Marines, and being from a one parent home," I nod, Peeta's words ring true.

"Yeah, you two were in the newspaper, front cover. Mom wants to frame it… last time you were in the paper was when…"

"Prim!" I caution.

"You and Gale when cow tipping and got caught!" she says loudly and quickly, "Mom still has your mug shots, she says, 'That girl always has a scowl on her face, even when she was caught red handed, always defiant'."

I put my hand over my head in embarrassment, "Cow… tipping?" Peeta asks.

"You know… When you go to a farm, hop the fence, then… push over a cow at night?"

"Ah…"

"Don't ask, it _was_ Gale's idea, I just… energetically agreed."


	14. The Ace of Spades

**So sorry it too so long... I've been distracted by other fictions I _shouldn't_ be writing until I finish up one of my other tales... **

**I don't own the Hunger Games, I just like putting the characters in strange situations and go, "How will this person act" then share it with the world.**

* * *

"Well, are you at least using protection?" I rolled my eyes, Prim wasn't one for keeping secrets.

"I'm on the pill," I shrugged looking over the half wall as Prim talked Peeta's ear off endlessly while they watched the Nationals unfortunately beat the Phillies into submission.

"_Katniss_," she hissed, at least my mother knew, from years of working in hospitals, how to keep important conversations between two people, "What if they put you on an antibiotic in the hospital?"

"They didn't… I checked my medical records," I tore up lettuce with my hands for a salad, "What? I needed to make sure they didn't give me anything that might interfere with my shooting…"

"Is that really what's important to you?" here we go again.

"Right now mom? Yes, my job is very important to me, and I need to be able to perform my job or people could die," she bristles a little, my tone just sharp enough to get my point across.

"You love him…"

I gulp, "Love isn't an emotion I can afford to feel right now," I continue to tear at lettuce, "Or ever for that matter," I add in a low voice.

"What about family? What if he wants to settle some day?"

"Then he's free to procreate and settle where ever he wants," Idly I chop a carrot, "Mom, I'm twenty-two, I have a great job where I can only go up, I'm helping people… _Breeding_ and _marriage_ are the least of my concerns," my mother just rolls her eyes, she want's grandchildren, I don't want children. Italian women, even southern Italian like my mother, wanted grand babies like a fat kid wants chocolate cake.

She'd have to wait for Prim.

"I'm going to go sit down…" I told her, knowing I could use my injured leg as an excuse to sit with my boyfriend. I pressed a hand to it for good measure, earning a sympathetic frown as I hurried to the couch. Ok, maybe I was sore, but not from my leg.

I rested my head on his shoulder, inhaling deeply as I took in his scent.

I wasn't in love… Was I?

"Hey babe," he kisses my cheek, "You feeling ok?" I nod, smiling.

"Just a little sore," I pat my leg hoping Prim will keep her mouth closed.

"Aw come on!" she slouches, "Mom! I'm going to be a National's fan now!" she shouts into the kitchen.

"You can tell that to your father, he'd roll over in his grave if you told him that."

"Could be worse! Could be the Yankee's," my eyes fid the worn leather armchair no one ever sits on.

No one could ever fill the void in that chair. A warm hand covered my cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as it brushed away tears I didn't realize I was crying. Peeta said nothing, he didn't pry, Peeta never pried into her life, he waited for doors to open.

* * *

_530_

The numbers threatened to bore a hole in my mind. How was it already 530?

I was big spoon tonight, well, more like the little spoon that happened to fall behind the big spoon. I slipped out of bed undetected, my lover still breathing evenly and heavily. Unfortunately I bumped into the corner of the bedframe not only shaking the bed but earning a loud curse that jolted Peeta from his slumber.

"Wha… Morning already?"

"Go back to sleep babe, I'm just going to take my test…"

"Want me to go with you?" he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"No, I'll be back after lunch. I don't want you to waste your day waiting around for me to fail…"

"You're not going to fail…"

I stepped into my sports bra gingerly pulling it up over my stiches, "I'm completely out of practice…" I grumble sliding my underwear up my legs. Peeta watches as I set my case on the bed sliding the dials on the lock to the appropriate numbers so the easily forcible locks would spring open.

"Impossible, you just took a break…" he yawns reaching for the phone to order breakfast.

"Something's... not right here…" my gun wasn't sitting nicely in the case.

I pull the gun out, the weight awkward in my hand since there's no barrel, nestled under where the stock just sat was a blood covered book.

_To Kill a Mockingbird_

I pick up the pages, once soaked with Rue's blood, flipping idly through them when a card falls out, the Ace of Spades.

_Do not use until you see the whites of their eyes._

_-Major Abernathy_

"Seems major has a plan forming… Would have been nice for him to tell us" I set the book down, afraid to damage it. The major wanted me to use this in the trial somehow, but not until I saw the whites of the defenses eyes…

"Not until they're close or seem to be gaining the upper hand," Peeta flips the note over several time before taking the book and putting it in his bedside table, right next to the bible, "I thought this was lost in the rubble…" I close my gun case after determining my eyes were still not what they were pre concussion, not terribly off, but enough to drive me insane, fill me full of anxiety.

Peeta is already in the bathroom when I slide down my underwear, "I didn't know we were at this stage of our relationship, urinating in front of each other," he towels off his face as I roll my eyes.

"What, I had to go and I wasn't going to any of the _other_ bathrooms, what are you, crazy?"

He shrugs, toothbrush in his mouth before opening the cabinet under the sink setting my box of tampons close to the toilet.

Now THISwasn't a stage we were at in our relationship, "Turn around!" I shriek.

"Katniss, I've seen you naked before… and _very_ bloody,"

"Peeta, turn around… Now," he rolls his eyes, back now to me as I take care of this embarrassing mess. Hey, at least I know I'm not pregnant, "Ok, we're good," I tell him after flushing and putting my underwear back on, "Crisis averted," I try to not show my absolute embarrassment, my pure horror that he had to see that.

He kisses my cheek as I brush my teeth, "Katniss, don't worry about it, I've see you near death and soaked in your own blood, this is nothing," I nod slowly, still embarrassed.

"What to wear today…" he teases as I throw on fatigues, I had to be in uniform for my test today.

"How about nothing?" I lean back in the bed and tuck my shirt in, lifting my hips up with my back and legs when I need to get the back, "Then I can come home and you can comfort me… oh wait. Damnit!" I hiss.

"Hey, I can still benefit from this situation," I button up my fly and side my feet into my well-worn boots, my eyes never leaving his.

"I will… Consider your proposal," I slid my belt through the loops adjusting it only slightly inwards, since leaving for Iraq I had taken off a good deal of weight most likely through sweat, "Model's should try this…" I said outloud.

"Try what?"

"Sweating their fat out through their pores, I'm down a few pounds," I threw my fatigue jacket over my shoulder and grabbed my gun case.

"You'll do great," he's in only his underwear, I'm in full military garb, what an odd pair.

"If you say so," I feel a twinge of cramping which'll just prove to be another distraction.

His firm hands are on my shoulders and he forces me to look at him, "I don't say, I know…" he kisses me with a ferocity that makes me want to hop back in bed and see if we can replicate the feeling over and over until we're out of breath and our lips are bruised, but I have to go.

"Be good while I'm gone," he hands me my case, they'll have to inspect it to make sure I'm not cheating somehow, but I used the same gun in my test last time.

"No promises…" he walks me to the door, hand in my pocket every few steps grabbing at my backside, "Hey Katniss…"

"Hmm?" I ask checking to be sure I have my wallet, papers and military ID.

"Shoot straight," I stuck my tongue out.

* * *

In Iraq everyone's life is in danger 24/7, it builds a sense of unity not found in Quantico. Not to say there isn't a brotherhood here, there's definitely a social ladder.

I walked in line with Colonel Boggs which seemed to perturb him beyond the way he bristled when he found out Staff Sergeant Everdeen was a woman, he idly chatted with me before we reached a dead end, "Back up to the line, cover your left eye and read the bottom line," vision test. Oh joy.

"Do you wear glasses and or contacts?"

"No, sir." I take a deep breath, I can make up the bottom line as always, I'm relieved but a lot of the letters could look like other letters at this distance. I needed 20/20, "Papa, Foxtrot, Charlie, Zulu, Delta, Tango, Lima, Echo," he nodded.

"Other eye," he pulled down another chart.

"Alpha, Oscar, Xray, Yankee, Foxtrot, Papa, Echo, Romeo, Juliet."

"Well, that's the easy part," his back was to me and I rolled my eyes. No shooting would be the easy part, "Did you study, Sergeant?"

"I figured my real life experiences would be enough, is it written and physical again?"

"Of course, we have another _actual_ class taking the exam at this time."

"Want them to show me up?" I smirked.

"Please, because secret service would have just some scrub with the gun pointed at Snow," he opened the door, inside the small class room were stereotypical Marines. Shaved heads, muscular builds, all weighing twice as me easily, not a single woman.

"And our final victim," I set my unlocked case on the desk up front for inspection, and took a seat up front, all of the men were Lance Corporal's, the lowest rank allowed to undergo sniper training, and here I was a Staff Sergeant who would most likely be tested for Gunnery Sergeant the second we got to Baghdad.

I didn't have my jacket on, for all they knew I could have been a starry eyed Corporal just like them, "Bring your own piece? What afraid their big bad guns here will kick your little shoulder too hard?"

"No, the Remmy's they have here have nothing on my Barrett."

Boggs was already in my case, screwing on my barrel, "Beautiful little number you got here, Everdeen…"

"Thanks, she's my baby," he examines the trigger guard, the bolt everything.

"Never have kids sarge, this baby's scuffed and scratched, you should get a new one when you get back to Fallujah…"

I rest my elbow on the table, my chin in my palm, "Thanks, but she survived a building falling on top of her, she'll survive Baghdad… Or where ever the hole I'll be stationed in is…"

He just sighs, "Now this is a real weapon, you jackasses would be honored just to hold something like this," he puts my gun away but not before looking through my scope, "Beautiful…"

The written test is easy, calculating gun positions based on wind speeds and distance, random situation questions, naturally I was the first one done having done this exam before.

"Have a seat outside… Looks like you scored better on your written than last time… One hundred percent Sergeant Everdeen," he shook my hand, last time I got two questions wrong.

It takes about a half hour for the class to finish and join me outside for the physical portion, as always beginning with a mile run, which in the hot June sun and disgusting Virginia humidity I naturally lead the pack, the big burly men carrying more weight than my lithe limber body.

Finally we're up to the practical, "Any volunteer's?" I know what's coming, "Let's go in order… Smallest to tallest," I roll my eyes and step forward.

"You could have just said ladies first, sir," my case is already out here, beautiful and ready for me. I slap the magazine in, earning a few wolf whistles, and my personal favorite _'I'd let her handle my gun anyday'_

"Your target is a middle aged female," I screw on my silencer, "Confirmed location," here's the corny part, "one thousand yards from your current location, you may take the shot prone, seated or standing. Be advised that this is timed and-"

The gun is at my shoulder before he's finished giving me my orders. I see "her" a dummy surrounded by "civilians" I aim for the kill zone in the head, flick my gun off safety and take my shot before he can finish talking.

"Target neutralized," I turn my gun back on safety as he fiddles with his computer probably hooked up to the now dead dummy.

"Right between the eyes... Get in that blind and await further orders," it's hot in there, kind of smelly form disgusting man, but I can sit down, "Alright, your next target follows the same route between Fallujah and his home outside of town every day. He has with him his two daughters and wife, though is wanted in connection with an IED that destroyed a convoy four days ago… What is your course of action?"

"Eliminate my target," I see the dummy standing profile to me, two smaller dummy's 'holding its hand' while a fourth follows behind. I take aim, the target only about a thousand feet ahead of me. I squeeze my trigger.

"Very good Everdeen, come back to the rest of the group," I throw my gun on safety again.

"And that boys is how you become certified as a Scout Sniper… Well, one of the ways. Dismissed Everdeen," we salute, "And do a good job Monday, don't let a student of mine get away with cold blooded murder."

"Sir, Marvel was one of yours?"

"He was in _your_ class Everdeen."

I had to get back to DC, I had to tell Peeta. Instead I called him as soon as I got situated.

"Peeta… I think I found our second secret weapon…"

He was groggy, having been woken up by the hotel phone ringing, "What's that babe?"

"Marvel was in the same sniper class as me. The second he brings up anything about training… OOoooh."

"Well, tell that to the Prosecution, they're coming to the hotel to meet with us in an hour."

"What? That's supposed to be tomorrow!" I throw my weapon in the back seat and turn the car on.

"They needed to meet with us as soon as possible to get our plan of action… You're driving, I'm going to let you go babe, drive safe."

"I will."

"Also, great job on your test…" I smiled a little. How did he know?

* * *

**Authors Note: **_**No**_** Katniss and Peeta are not having the babies yet. It would mess up the whole story D: This isn't about Katniss and Peeta making a family, it's about them fighting a war and finding themselves/ each other. Babies may come, just not at this juncture. Next chapter starts Marvel's trial, some familiar faces come back! Soon they're back to the war where the **_**real **_**fun begins! Let's see if we can bring this to 150 reviews or more? It won't make me update faster, well… It might remind me to write the next chapter faster.**

HERE'S A PREVIEW:

We stood there as the judge entered; camera crew's planted around the room trailing his entrance, following his every move like my rifle on a target's path, waiting for a clear perfect shot.

"You may be seated," the bailiff told us. Peeta and I were the only two in Dress Blues, Marvel and the three witnesses for the Defense having been discharged and stripped of all titles. I didn't pay the best attention to the defenses opening statement, or even the prosecution, I just stared.

_This man killed Rue, this man took what Peeta fights for away from him…_ I thought over and over.

"We call Staff Sergeant Katniss Everdeen to the stand," I'm pulled from my trance and rise, the bloody book tucked away safely in my coat pocket, my hat under my arm.

"Raise your right hand," the bailiff commanded, not bothering to bring a bible. I made it abundantly clear that I was not swearing on a book that didn't hold any power over me, instead he brought out a code and conduct book of the state of Maryland, laws that held much more power over me than some scripture of a religion I didn't follow, "You do affirm that all the testimony you are about to give in the case now before the court will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; this you do affirm under the pains and penalties of perjury?"

I nod slowly, "I swear."

He nods, "You may be seated," my eyes find Cato, Clove, and Glimmer, all three staring at me like I ruined their lives. They did this to themselves.

I look at Marvel's fancy attorney, apparently his father was loaded, enough to buy a team of lawyers to get his son off a murder charge. We had what I saw and Peeta's way with words.

Heh… Now I know how David felt.


	15. Trial By Fire

**People were questioning how I've been handling the whole trial thing. I've eluded to it being a publicity stunt, after all, this is a Hunger Game's AU, and it is 2003, perfect time for President Snow to try and turn the country's opinion of him after he put the states in a barely supported war. ;)**

**On _other_ notes. There will probably be only one more stateside chapter, then I'll probably speed things up. I have stuff I want to get to, people to kill off! Awkward secret romances to write about! :3 And a few things you may hate me for... But imma do it anyway!**

* * *

"It's just a puppet trial…" I grumble into my eggs, suddenly not hungry.

Peeta sighed, we were at an impasse here, he believed it was real, I felt it was just a show, "Kat…"

"Peeta… But seriously," I burst the yolk to dip my toast in, nibbling idly, "We've met the prosecution, the defense, they all seem… Like puppets."

"Maybe they are, maybe they aren't. That doesn't change the fact that we have a job to do."

I nod slowly, shivering a little as the air conditioning kicks on, blowing straight through my robe, "So we can get back and actually do _our_ job," I sip at my juice, feeling restless here in DC, just wanting to leave Marvel to face legal sanctions, and the other three can be shamed straight into the ground."

Peeta just sighed, his firm hand on my thigh, "Katniss… What's wrong?"

I sigh, my shoulders slumped in exhaustion though it was barely 600, "Someone from Dreamland was killed in Fallujah yesterday, a car bomb in our old sector… It was no one we knew…"

"But it could have been you, it could have been me or Cresta, or Thresh…" I nod, "Kat, you do know that as sergeant, especially since you're up for Gunny, when people die.."

"If."

"If someone from our platoon dies, or goes missing, you may have to call home…" I nod slowly.

"There will be other people there, who outrank me to do that…" I whisper.

* * *

"Coffee?"

"No thank you…" this was the third time I was asked, maybe they thought I needed to wash my mutilated muffin down with some tar like coffee, instead I continued picking it apart removing the blueberries and popping the large ones in my mouth.

The floor shook, Peeta's leg bouncing nervously, "Stop that," I rest my hand mid-thigh, "You're making _me_ nervous," I forget we're under the watchful eyes of a military appointed defense team and rub my hand on the inside of his thing, stroking the top with my thumb, feeling the smooth blue fabric of his pants under my callused thumb.

"_Katniss…"_ he whispers, though my movement is hidden under the well-worn table of the back office I should know better. I move my hand from his leg and fold them in my lap.

The puppet prosecution seems too busy to notice, I could probably hike up my skirt and ride him and they wouldn't even notice.

"Ten of nine, let's go you two. Miss Everdeen, be prepared to take the stand, defense is getting right to business," her name was Candice Belfleur, a tall fierce Southern woman I'd respect if she wasn't basically covered in Capitol taint and slime.

Her partner in crime, August Salvatore was older than Peeta and I put together, a hefty grey man who shared the same taint and seeped the odor of cigarette smoke.

"Why wouldn't they want to extend it? It's all just a big show…" I grumble, grabbing a dress coat from the coat rack.

"Could you at least pretend to care?" Candice asks, "Also, you think the Corps would give you something more… Tailored?"

I look down, the first hint that I'm in the wrong coat is the fact that I'm swimming in it, but naturally I notice the Oriental collar and Afghanistan medal first, "I don't know, think I can pull it off?"

I hand Peeta his coat, buttoning mine on, stupid collar and all. I feel the book press against my rips. I haven't told anyone but Peeta about it, and I don't think he knows I brought it this soon.

We walk into the court room, a few cameras positioned around the room. A combat journalist was in Fallujah that day and caught the whole incident on tape. The shot, the aftermath, the beginning of the firefight, it was their video that determined the building collapsed from a grenade exploding. Fortunately for my shear faith in my men, it's impossible to prove whether or not it was set off by a friendly. The daft reporter who saw it all sat stiff and confused next to me behind where the prosecution sat behind a wooden half wall. Behind the defense, and a very well dressed Marvel, were Cato, Clove, and Glimmer.

"All rise."

We stood there as the judge entered; camera crew's planted around the room trailing his entrance, following his every move like my rifle on a target's path, waiting for a clear perfect shot.

"You may be seated," the bailiff told us. Peeta and I were the only two in Dress Blues, Marvel and the three witnesses for the Defense having been discharged and stripped of all titles after their Court Marshal. I didn't pay the best attention to the defenses opening statement, or even the prosecution, I just stared.

_This man killed Rue, this man took what Peeta fights for away from him…_ I thought over and over.

"We call Staff Sergeant Katniss Everdeen to the stand," I'm pulled from my trance and rise, the bloody book tucked away safely in my coat pocket, my hat under my arm.

"Raise your right hand," the bailiff commanded, not bothering to bring a bible. I made it abundantly clear that I was not swearing on a book that didn't hold any power over me, instead he brought out a code and conduct book of the state of Maryland, laws that held much more power over me than some scripture of a religion I didn't follow, "You do affirm that all the testimony you are about to give in the case now before the court will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; this you do affirm under the pains and penalties of perjury?"

I nod slowly, "I swear."

He nods, "You may be seated," my eyes find Cato, Clove, and Glimmer, all three staring at me like I ruined their lives. They did this to themselves.

I look at Marvel's fancy attorney, apparently his father was loaded, enough to buy a team of lawyers to get his son off a murder charge. We had what I saw and Peeta's way with words.

Heh… Now I know how David felt.

The man opens a gun case using a white cloth to grip it, he holds it awkwardly, "Miss Everdeen… Do you know what this is?"

I lean forward a little, nervous sitting in my little witness pen, "Is… Is that a real question?"

"Your honor…" he pleads.

"Sergeant Everdeen, answer the question," I look to Peeta who just nods.

"It's a Barrett Model 82," he holds it by the short stock, the one thing I liked about this rifle was the handgun like stock, his finger dangerously close to the trigger guard.

"You would say you're well versed in the workings of this weapon?"

"I am…"

"Well enough that your fingerprints were found on it?"

"I've never fired _that_ weapon. I may have ripped it from the defendant after he shot a ten year old," I snapped.

"Your honor, that is hearsay. I'd like to have that stricken from the record," he pleads.

"Granted," there's a pause, a lull, "Mister Flickerman you may continue," but the jury can't strike that from their memory.

"Thank you, your honor. _Miss_ Everdeen," I narrow my eyes, he refuses to address me properly, but hands me the rifle."

"I'm sorry, I was mistaken," I run my hands over the piece, scuffed, dented, but still beautiful, "Would you like to object, call me hostile if I say it's an M107, not an 82?" I click out the magazine and pull back the bolt, making sure those idiots didn't leave a round in.

All clear.

"Tell us about this rifle," I flip out the back stock and hold it as if I was aiming for the celing fan, the scope is off for my eyes, and there's dust trapped inside as well as a decent sized scrape.

"It's lightweight, barely kicks, shoots fifty callibur rounds."

"Fifty, that's a lot of firepower," Flickerman says idly.

"One shot one kill…" I mutter putting the bolt back in place and setting the gun down in front of me.

"Yes, that is your moto isn't it… You have that phrase tattooed on your shoulder blade, don't you?"

I narrow my eyes, "Yes, as a matter of fact I do."

"Your honor!" Candice stands, "_What_ does the witnesses tattoos have to do with my murder trial?"

"I have a point," he starts.

"Continue, but one more objection and I'm sending this one back to Iraq, lord knows we need some of her spunk over there…" he grumbles.

"Thank you, your honor," he gets close to the stand, I back away, "Now, how would the defendant know this fact about you?"

I think about the first day, he was there, when I taunted Cato shirtless. Oh, shit. I knew just where this was going, "My first day in Iraq, I was changing my shirt with the door open. I figured I was surrounded by adults, if one passed by it would be nothing."

"Who was there?"

"Myself, Gale Hawthorne, Daniel Cato, Jacob Marvel, Lisa Clove, and Dina Glimmer…" I think, "And Sergeant Mellark, though he was a Corporal at that time."

I think of the time I spent alone, in Peeta's room, how I went there some nights. I'm about to be drug through the mud.

"Ah yes, mister Mellark. You spent a great deal of time with him," he walks over to the table pulling out schedules, my guard schedules, "Things seem to slip through the cracks, miss Everdeen, responsibilities neglected."

"But, I'm not the one on trial, am I?" I ask coldly, pulling at my sleeves.

"You may be, you were the commanding officer of the defendant."

"One of them."

"Right, now… You are directly responsible for their actions, is that not correct?"

"You are correct, Caesar."

"Please, call me Mister Flickerman."

"Call me Sergeant."

He just smiles, "You were responsible for keeping an eye on them, being there if they needed them, and where were you? Guard duty, with the now Sergeant Mellark every night… Then your names are off this schedule, why?"

"I sprained my ankle during PT, was taken off until I was cleared."

"Where were you during that time? Because Mellark's name isn't on here either."

"I was under direct order to ensure Corporal Mellark became Sergeant Mellark."

"Where. Were. You. Miss Everdeen." Each word short, to the point.

"His room, every night, studying."

"Studying, please…"

I slam my hand on the desk like bar in front of me where a rifle rests, "I see where you are getting at Mister Flickerman, you will not make me out to be some Marine Corps Whore."

"I would never do that, but it would make good reason for you to disregard your duties, it's the only reason that seems to make sense."

"We were preparing for his examination," I hiss through my teeth.

"Sure, late at night, with the door closed. You're both isolated from the rest of the world. High stress environment… It's easy for anyone to cave into their more… carnal desires," he looks me over, I feel dirty, so very dirty.

"No…" I mumble.

"Were you, or were you not involved romantically with Peeta Mellark."

"No, I was not." It's true, I mean, if he asks me now, it would be perjury, but at the time, it was platonic, we were studying.

"Then… After the incident in which the native girl-"

"Rue"

"Excuse me?"

"Rue… her name was _Rue_. She was ten years old, her mother was killed in a firefight that claimed a good portion of the Platoon before my arrival in Iraq," I feel it running through my veins, the anger, pure anger, like liquid fire. Hatred even.

"Your honor," he starts, but I don't let up. I can't.

"Her full name is Rudrani Al-Zaidi, and her life was cut short by a sniper bullet originating from the sniper nest your _client_ and I both spent four hours at a time in. She walked with _Sergeant _Mellark and myself or _your client_ when he wasn't in the sniper's nest. Every. Day."

"Objection!"

"And you know what Rue was reaching for?" I reach in my coat and throw down the bloody book, "_To Kill A Mockingbird. _If I wasn't so disgusted I'd find the irony in this. It's a _sin_ to kill a mockingbird, isn't it? And before you continue with 'you couldn't tell through the scope' I've watched flowers bud on White House cherry trees through one of these on the far south lawn. But _please_ continue questioning me about a romantic incident that never happened, that will get us _so_ far," I stand up, and turn around, my hands behind my back, folded neatly so I stand at attention.

"Forgive me, Judge Crane, but I have my honor to protect, and the honor of my Sergeant, and more so the honor of the United States Marine Corps," I salute, "Hope someday you can forgive me for my spectacle."

The man nods, giving me a small smile and I feel someone approach, "Don't have to cuff me sir, I'll walk myself out," the bailiff's hand is on my lower back as I walk down the center aisle, head held high.

There will be repercussions, that's for sure, I've embarrassed one of the top lawyers in the country, made a mockery of this court room, and spoken out of turn. But I humanized her, I put a face, a name a personality, to Rue. In some place this was live I could only hope.

No one could censor my rant.

Not even Fox News.

I looked to Peeta as I passed, he only smiled and gave me a slight nod.

He waits until after outside of the court room, now erupted in shouts of a mistrial, to strike my statements form the record, to arrest me, to take my arm and shove me into the wall, "Hands behind your back."

"Can I at least tale off my coat?" he throttles my wrist forcing me to yelp, the noise echoing down the hallway but is lost in the noise of the court room when the door opens.

"What are you-" _Peeta._

"Standard procedure," he grunts not letting up on my wrist, my other arm is still trapped under me but his weight makes me unable to bring it back.

"I asked to take off my coat," I smirk, turning my head to face him, more pressure.

"You're going to break her wrist! Just let her take off her jacket, she doesn't want to disrespect her uniform. Surely you understand!" he pleads for me, seeing the tear run down my cheek.

I hear banging, "Order!" Crane shouts, "Order in my court room!"

The pressure lets up and his weight is off me, "Here…" I hand Peeta my coat which he folds neatly over his arm.

"Keep it safe," he nods as I turn back to the wall, both hands behind my back, the cool metal of the cuffs is refreshing on my heated flesh, though the somewhat soothing feeling is taken away when the bailiff's hand finds my stitches keeping my bullet wound closed, I cry out, tears coming from my eyes.

"Katniss…" I look over my shoulder, damn he's gorgeous, even when I have him worried sick with my smart mouth.

"I'm fine, Sergeant Mellark, go back inside, fight for her!" it's hard to walk being pulled, "Don't let him walk with blood on his hands!"

"I won't!" I hear as I'm shoved into a tiny holding room. A metal table, a chair and a hanging lamp.

"Don't try anything funny," he flicks on the light and slams the door, leaving me alone, I walk forward and bump the lamp with my forehead lightly, making it swing and creak for effect.

"Great…" I look up at the loudly ticking clock, 1049, not even eleven and I'm raising hell.

* * *

**As always, please review. I like to hear from my readers! I enjoy your favorites and alerts, but like hearing from you more! (Gives me something to read)**

**Also, expect another chapter soon. I'm on summer break.**


	16. The Verdict

**Can you tell I'd like to move along with this story? I want to get back to the action! Last chapter in the states for a good long while(ish). Please remember to review, I get a lot of favorites and alerts, but don't really hear from people, I want to hear what you think! D:**

"_You two again?" my fingers scratched at the rough brick of the old firehouse, "What was it this time?"_

_I scratched my leg with the front of my boot, smoothing down my torn jeans, "We weren't doing anything officer," he patted me down, searching my carhartt for anything that could get me in trouble._

_Gale had managed to keep quiet the whole time, smart enough to not sing. I on the other hand was dumb enough to talk back, "That's why I got a call that the Hawthorne boy and the Everdeen girl was messing in the Cartwright's pasture, and you're covered in mud little lady, and I know Rory and Prim ain't gonna be out here raising hell." I looked down at my feet, the hay stuck to the mud in my treds. Gale had the idea to go cow tipping, naturally I was eager to go. Too bad old man Cartwright found us._

"_You's aughta stay out of trouble, ya hear?" I nod, "Hands behind your back princess, if Cary hears I let you off with this shit again he'll have my head."_

"_What! I didn't do nothin' wrong! We were just walkng…"_

"_Hands behind your back little miss. You should have more pride than this girl. An Everdeen, your kin always find their way in my cuffs," I put my hands behind my back. Here we go, the shameful backstory of the Everdeen's and the Hawthorne's and their crank cooking and general hell raising… Only my daddy and Gale's kept out of that._

"_They're not my blood anymore, Darius," I tell him as the cuffs slap onto my wrists, "We stopped bein' kin the second they turned their backs on my starving sister…"_

"_Blood is blood little lady," he pulled me away from the wall and placed me in the cruiser where Gale already sat handcuffed._

"_We got a family code deputy, they pissed on it the second we needed them," he just sighed, closing my door._

"_Both of ya need to start toeing the line," he turns the car on as I move to sit on my hands, still a lanky teenager I could slip cuffs in front of me in a heartbeat. _

"_Tell me a story Darius," I had to distract him, as always, but he would fall for it. He always would…_

_I didn't listen to him tell the story about how he tool down a twelve point buck last deer season instead I went to my hair where I had my loose strands pushed back to my ponytail by bobby pins. Another talent I had, picking locks, only in cuffs though. I bit at the end bending it forward so the thing would form a key and with my right hand found the hole._

"_You double lock these?" Gale asked Darius._

"_Of course I did, what kind of deputy do you think I am?"_

_The kind that is letting a sixteen year old pick her way out of cuffs in the back of your car… 'Turn up, turn down,' the arm gave way and my hand was freed. The other hand being easier since I already had one freed. Getting Gale out was harder he had to shift his arms only slightly so Darius wouldn't get suspicious. Fortunately everyone was under the impression that we were together, Darius being one of them, so when I scooted over, pressing my chest against Gale's arm but keeping my hands hidden, he didn't think anything of it. Finally Gale was free and we held our cuffs behind our backs for the rest of the trip._

"_You're a bad influence on me," he whispered, kissing my cheek._

"_You're older, you're the influence," I tell him, blushing._

_Darius parks the car and goes to let me out, ladies first, "Here you go deputy, thought you may want these," his jaw drops, used to seeing Gale and I with cuffs in front of us, never once had we broken out._

I pick my head off the table, I had lost my teenage gawkiness but that was replaced by strength. I flattened my hands on the chair, _one… two… three…_ with a deep breath I lifted myself up off the chair, the metal digging deep into my skin and bones. I widened my elbow's, making my hold weaker. If I fell I would surely break a wrist… With my hands under my things I stood up awkwardly, sliding the cuffs down as low as possible before bending my chest to my knees and sliding my arms down.

_One foot…_I step through my arms awkwardly, _here we go… _I get the second one in and stand up, sliding the cuffs down to examine the damage. Deep long tracks marred my skin, some oozing a little blood where the edges cut in.

_What'll they do to me if I pick the lock…_ I think staring at my hands, I had wiggled my way to having the cuffs in front of me and with the sixty bobby pins keeping my bun in place and knew how to break out of cuffs. Gale and I had spent a good amount of time in the back of Sheriff Cray's cruiser, though he'd whack us if he came to drop us off and we handed over our cuffs. Deputy Darius on the other hand just laughed and let us go. Except that _one_ time he hauled us in.

The door swings open and I jump up, "Gimme your hands girl," it's not the bailiff from the trial.

"What's going on?"

"Crane's got a soft spot for ya, you've got spunk little girl," he frees my hands, "We figured either let you go or you'd let yourself go… And we didn't need you charging into the court room again. Just thought we'd keep until you calmed yourself…"

I flex my fingers, my pinkies and ring fingers are numb from my struggle, "What happened, what did I miss?"

"They'll continue the trial as planned. Just treat your… Filibuster… As… Well, I don't know their lawyer talk, but shameful thing they tried to do to a gentile lady like yourself…"

"I've killed before, not very… Gentile…" he just smiles, his kind old eyes on me.

"There's a difference between taking a life to save someone, and killing. You best be remembering that little lady, now get along, you have a few minutes to get back to the Prosecution's room before the court room clears out. You're little speech is all anyone's talking about, everywhere."

I gulp, "Oh shit…"

"Are you insane?" a tan folder comes down on my head, "Your little rant could have cost us this whole case!" Candice hits me again, fortunately Peeta isn't in the room.

"I got mad! A little girl died and he can't even be bothered to say her damn name, instead he's trying to make me off as some tramp!"

"That's what they _do_. Do you think I go to work every day and get _respect? _Do you think I don't have to _fight?_ You do it subtly."

"I'm a sniper, everything about my _fighting_ is subtle, but when you, on live TV, try to make me out like some horny bitch out in the desert I'm not going to take it lying down!"

She growls, "Someone, talk sense in her! She needs to take the stand tomorrow again and I can't examine her if she's going to go off!"

I stand up, "Then don't examine me, I've made my speech, I've made the corps look human, I've made it seem like we're not blood thirsty monsters out to kill civilians. I can get on a plane and go back to Baghdad, where shit makes sense."

"You leave and that man walks."

The door opens, my savior, "Let's go back to the hotel, I need a big drink," I rub at my wrists, the red marks still visible.

"Here…" he starts quietly, his eyes on my hands, "It'll cover the marks," my coat… It fits perfectly, tailored to fit me but still allow movement.

"Thanks," the next thing he hands me is my hat, though I can't hide my face. I'm the girl who went off on a tirade with cameras everywhere. And I was supposed to be respectful.

"Well…" I start as the door closes, "Let me hear it."

"Hear what? That was amazing," he wraps his arms around my waist kissing my neck gently, "They tried to divert the blame from the person pulling the trigger to the person above him… And you put them in their place…" he shifts so he's positioned to pick me up.

"Are you going to put me in my place?"

"Yeah, the tub," I smile, a tub sounds nice, only, the phone starts ringing.

"You start the bath… I'll get that," his lips find my cheek as I pick up the screaming phone, "Hello?"

"You've made a mockery of our court system, shamed the top lawyer in this country, and stirred up the entire nation… I hope you're happy with yourself."

I gulp, so President Snow can make his own calls, "Kind of…"

"This is a media shit storm Miss Everdeen. You were supposed to make the armed forces look good, that's why I set this whole damn thing up, not so you can throw a tantrum…" he snaps.

"Forgive me sir, this may be just some trial for you, but I have my career and the rest of my life to deal with. I can't have some pompous dick insult me, make me out as some harlot when his client killed a baby girl. I wasn't the one who put the cameras in there."

"I have half a mind to send you back to Iraq on the next plane…"

"Apparently I'm taking the stand tomorrow," I look at my nails, surprisingly clean, "My momma didn't raise no fool mister President, she also didn't raise a doormat. Now, I won't agree to saying that I was out of line, because I was in the right there, but I can promise that I will only go off like that if Flickerman decides he'd rather be accusing me of his client's crimes."

"Still full of piss, vinegar, and fire… Remember, Sergeant Everdeen, the country is watching you. Your job is to convince the country that you believe war is the right course of action."

"I can do that…" I tell him quietly.

"No, you'll have to do better after that. Convince _me_ Everdeen." The line goes quiet.

I slam the phone down, pulling my tie like thing and throw it to the kitchen table. I stand like a slouched statue in the doorframe between our bedroom and the bathroom.

"Peeta…"

"Yes babe?"

"Turn off the tub." There's something in my voice, a hollowness that he obeys, shutting off the water, "Come here…" I take his hand in mine, easily his eclipses my tiny hand. I lead him to the bed, I don't need the passion we've shown in the last few days, I need his loving tenderness. He helps me out of my shirt discarding my bra before unzipping my skirt and pulling it down with my dark panty-hose.

"Lay on your stomach," he whispers kissing down my neck and to my shoulder blades.

I do so, laying across the bed, my head propped up against his pillow, taking in the scent as he strips out of his blues, leaving on only his boxers as he sits on my thighs, "Too much weight?" he asks.

"What are you doing?" I ask not answering my question.

"Rubbing your back…" his fingers trace up my spine, his large, tender hands find my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the tightness out of the base of my neck, "You're so tight back here…"

"I did carry a large weight on them for the last eleven years…"

"Mhm…" I feel his fingers trace my tattoo, but he doesn't ask about it, instead he works my sides, making me flail, "Why did you lie today?"

"About what?"

"Us…" he traces my rips with his fingertips.

"I was never asked if we were together now, just if we were intimate then… I didn't do anything wrong…" I yawn. I feel his lips on my spine.

"How are your wrists?"

"Sore… I'm only just short enough to still get out of cuffs. Cray and Darius would be proud," he chuckles, now working my lower back. It feels so good to actually have someone work out the kinks in my back and muscles.

"I wouldn't know, I managed to stay under their radar…" he leans forward and kisses the base of my neck.

"No, you could have done anything, you were from the town…" I yawned, "Gale and I were from the outskirts, the Seam… Plus I'm an Everdeen, he's a Hawthorne, we were bred to raise hell…"

"Is it true? About your uncles?"

"Cooking? Yeah… Only my daddy and Gale's kept as far away from that as possible. Apparently it violated the "family code"… Don't sing, and protect your kin… When he was captured we were still getting his checks… Though when he died, momma was too sick with grief to file for any help or do any _real_ work…" I sigh his hands rest low on my hips, thumbs making small circles in the tight flesh, "You know the rest…"

"Mhm…" we sit there in quiet, me enjoying the feeling of his weight on me, him probably enjoying the view before he finally speaks.

"Want to get into the tub?" he begins unpinning my hair so it fans out across my back.

"Not yet… I want you…" I go to roll over making him sit up a little, when I'm on my back I reach forward, stroking his semi-erect package through the grey material of his underwear.

I watch him melt, like putty in my hands, a dopy grin taking over his face. I sneak my hand in pulling him out, and watching him grow under my touch. I let go only to watch him take off the final piece of clothing, throwing it with the rest of our laundry.

"You're amazing…" I breathe as his gentile hands spread my legs, which were closed tight to hide the dampness that formed all for him. He glides the head from the source of the moisture to my clit, rubbing me with it. Because of Mother Nature this was the first time we had been fully intimate in the last few days. _I_ wouldn't be lasting long, Peeta on the other hand was getting blow jobs like crazy. In the shower, while he was brushing his teeth, before bed, when I wanted to feel him writhe under my touch.

I was dreading our return to Iraq.

When I'm wetter than I thought possible he enters me, slowly, too slow for my tastes as I wrap my legs around him and pull him in the rest of the way, "Not tonight Katniss…" he brings his hand forward, stroking my cheek. His hands find mine, our fingers tying together. He doesn't withdraw though, but sits still, teasing me. I clamp my muscles around him, trying to move my hips but he pushes into me, stalling my movements. He presses my hands into the mattress, leaning down so I'm pinned, his lips barely brushing mine. His eyes find the red marks on my wrists, deep imprints that ooze a little blood from my struggle and "arrest".

"I tried to escape…" I whisper, he rolls his eyes and I drop one thigh from his waist. We sit there, lips brushing, him inside me for a few minutes, enjoying the sensation before he shifts upright and begins thrusting slowly, almost too slowly.

I whimper, wanting him to go faster, but every deliberate movement is loving, tender, that in and of itself was driving me over the edge. I ran my hands down his chest and abs, feeling the muscles under my shaky touch. He brought his arms forward, pulling me flush with his body once my legs folded neatly under me. Our tongues wrestled for dominance before I broke free of his lips, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, biting gently to leave marks. To mark him as mine.

I'm somewhat in control now, nibbling and sucking on his flesh, biting every so often earning a moan. The thrusts come at the speed I set now, not too fast or to slow. Normally our hungry moves leave me immobilized; now we have the chance to explore each other, our hands tangle in each other's hair, scratches and bite marks litter our skin when we finally finish in a tangle of sweaty limbs and the sheets. I threw my leg over him and pressed myself close to him.

We sat in silence watching the sun trail across the sky before I finally spoke, "I fucked up…"

"Mhm…"

"I'll be lucky if I'm not met with my own court martial, or demoted, or discharged, they'll never let me even try to become an Officer," Peeta held me close, smoothing my sweaty hair down.

"Major Abernathy sent you here because he knew you would do something like this," he finally told me.

"What?" I jumped up.

"Cresta was supposed to come, but…"

"You _knew_?"

"Katniss, calm down," his hands were on my arms, stroking the sides to calm me, "I overheard Paylor, Odair, and Abernathy. Odair didn't think Cresta could do it, she's been pretty buggy since our last sergeant was blown up in front of her," I nod, "So Abernathy suggested you, you were in charge, and as he said you have a spine and would rather be dead than let some hot shot lawyer walk all over you."

I pull away from his grasp and burry my face in my pillow, "I'm going to bite his head off," I say into the soft down.

000

"And was there any animosity between the group?"

"I wouldn't say animosity, more like distrust," Peeta shifted nervously at the stand.

"Distrust?"

"Our previous sergeant, and much of our platoon, the people we had been sent there with, were taken out by an IED in Fallujah and the fire fight that resulted."

"Ah yes, absolutely dreadful…" Flickerman seemed almost friendly with Peeta, jerk…

"Yeah, when they started filling spots in with fresh faces, and then a sergeant who's never been deployed before? It confused some people to say the least."

"Including yourself?"

"I was able to get ahold of her resume, I'm sure you've seen it?"

"I have, quite impressive for a twenty-two year old."

"Yes, but are we really still trying to pin negligence on her? We've both made it abundantly clear nothing was going on between us."

Flickerman looked like someone had ruffled his feathers, "He's your witness," he told Candice.

"I do not have any questions for Sergeant Mellark, instead I'd like to bring forward the testimony of Corporal Annie Cresta, who couldn't be with us because of a mission she was assigned in Baghdad. You've already reviewed her statement Mister Flickerman, haven't you?"

He just waved, "Alright, I have transcripts for you, your honor, and the jurors." She passes out the papers and Peeta takes his seat next to me.

A recording begins to play, "Can you please tell me what you heard?"

I can hear her voice, clear and fearful, "I heard them discuss how they were getting bored in the city. How we saw no action considering we were the most active area in the first month…"

"Bored? In a warzone."

"I guess… "

"Did anyone else hear this?"

"Not that I know of, it was late and no one was around. I was on my way back from watch."

"So no one to back you up?"

"No, sir."

"Did you hear anything else?"

"Only that they wanted to start something as payback for half our platoon being killed, and to make sure they got the 'fire girl' out of the way before she figured out what was going on."

"Fire girl, the deceased civilian?"

"No sir, the men in Dreamland had a nickname for our sarge, she was the best shot on the base hands down. The men refused to explain it as talent so they said she was 'on fire'."

I looked to Cato who was just sneering at me, he told Marvel to take me out. The bullet wasn't meant for me, but to pull me away from combat. The grenade that collapsed the building was thrown by Marvel. It had to have been.

He meant to kill me.

I lean over the barrier, I had to do damage control. Threat against my life or not, there was a plot to kill civilians, I couldn't let the country think that we were like that, "Put me on the stand," I tell August, "I won't go off like yesterday," he gives me a skeptical look, "Please, I'm begging you or I'll make another speech out of turn." He rolls his eyes and nods.

"We'd like to call to the stand Sergeant Katniss Everdeen," murmurs fill the room, "She promises to be on her _best_ behavior."

"Very well," Crane starts, "You won't disrespect my court room for a second time, will you?"

"No, your honor," I smile before turning to August, "Have you played the footage yet?" I haven't seen it, but I know it exists.

"No…" he smiles a little, seeing my plan, "Before we bring our witness to the stand we'd like to show the jury the video recording of the incident, if you'll allow it."

A screen to the side was pulled down and before long the flighty news reporter was on screen_, "We're here today in Fallujah, a much calmer scene then we've seen in Baghdad in the last few weeks. This area in particular hasn't seen combat in three weeks following a fire fight that took the lives of six Marines and eight civilians,"_ I can see Peeta and I approaching where Rue was shot. My chest tightened.

"_Peeta! Katniss!"_ I gripped my chair, knuckles going white as I watched her reach in her tunic. You never hear the gunshot, even as my arm jerks back as I'm hit, or as Rue slumps into my arms.

The reporter didn't stay on screen for long, but they zoomed in. I hugged myself, _"__She wants to know if you can sing to her… Sing her to sleep…"_

"_I'm no good…"_

My fingers dug into my coat, _"Katniss!"_

The whole court room listens as I sing Rue to 'sleep' I can hear sniffles that aren't just my own as I bite back my tears, _"Follow her, follow her!"_ the reporter and the camera man run forward. They can't hear the exchange between Marvel and I but they do get something absolutely perfect. Him removing the pin of a grenade and throwing it in the door.

"_Get down!"_ the reporter cries.

It turns out I never need to take the stand again, Marvel does the talking for us, "It wasn't my fault!" he shouts, "I was just doing what he told me to!" he points right at Cato, "It was all his idea, to kill the girl, to kill Sergeant Everdeen, all of it! He even distracted her in the morning to make sure I'd have a clear shot when we swapped," I stood up from my seat, I couldn't be in here any longer without diving on Cato and clawing his eyes out.

"Katniss!" Peeta calls as I leave the court room, he's quick on my heels, "Katniss, slow down!" I throw the door to the court house open, welcoming the sunlight.

Peeta's hand grabbed my wrist, keeping me from running down the waiting DC street. Half way across town was our hotel where I could scream and cry as much as I wanted, here there were cameras and watchful eyes, "Katniss… Come back inside, we have a duty to Rue to see this through," I let the door close, cutting off my freedom.

"He… _Distracted_ her so Marvel would have a clear shot."

Peeta just nodded, "And he'll pay for it," we didn't mention how I was target number two.

In the end Marvel changed his plea to guilty and they negotiated to bring the charges from murder in the first to manslaughter in exchange for testimony against Cato.

He was sentenced to eight years for the murder and two for my attempted murder which he would serve at the same time. In four years he was up for parole.

In four years he could walk.

We returned to the hotel, the second the door closed the phone rang, "That'll be Snow… to rip me a new one…" I grumble picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Miss Everdeen, there is an envelope at the front desk for you and your companion, would you like me to bring it up to you?"

"Yes, please. Thank you…"

I sit on the couch, taking off my coat, and heels. The wounds from the handcuffs were scabbed over and tight, but nothing too major. The door knocks and I rush over, in the uniformed man's hand is a large manila envelope which I take eagerly, "Thank you, sir."

"Is there anything I can fetch for you, madame?"

"No, thank you though," he bows slightly to me and retreats back to his desk.

"Babe, we got mail," I unwind the string keeping the flap closed.

"What is it?" he's already out of his blues.

I reached in, "Plane tickets for tomorrow morning… 1145, BWI… And a letter."

I look at the bottom, not caring to see who it's addressed to, "From General Coin…"

"_Sergeant Everdeen,_

_Upon your arrival to Baghdad, please report to my office immediately._

_General Alma Coin"_ I swallowed hard, my mouth full of cotton. Peeta looked at me with his sad hopeful eyes, wrapping his arms around me.

"It's probably nothing… Don't worry about it…" I laughed nervously as he said this.


	17. Hope

**We're out of the 'Hunger Games' portion of our tale… On to Catching Fire/ Mockingjay ;3**

* * *

_June 2003_

The average temperature of Baghdad, Iraq is 104 degrees. Add on layers of camo, Kevlar, and various packs it can feel like 115 or higher. I can feel the blazing sun through the window of the plane, hot and brutal.

"Ready for this?" Peeta asks taking my hand, we're basically alone on this plane and the gesture could be seen as platonic so I don't withdraw.

"So a four star General can rip me a new one? Sure… If I'm going home on the next plane, I promise to write once a week," I smirk, trying to make light of the situation though I've been anxious since we left the states.

"Make it four times a week, and I want pictures," I elbow him only making his stupid grin grow wider.

I can hear the landing gear drop, shit I hate planes…

000

"I have to go see Coin… I'll see you at dinner?" I asked Peeta hopefully.

"At least drop your bags off… There's more than three women on this base, you may have a roommate…" I look at my paper, trying to find my room assignment, Peeta and I had guard duty at the same time… Only different assignments.

"Second shift is the worst shift… You get all sweaty then it drops to like fifty and you're freezing," I throw my door open, two beds, one already made up.

"At least food's open twenty four hours here, in Fallujah we would have had to wait until breakfast," I throw my bag down on the bed, giving him a dirty look, "Hey… Don't give me that face…" he closes my door with his foot not bothering to lock it. He's on me like lightning, pressing me into the wall between the bed and the desk.

"What face?" I ask innocently, "This is my face."

He rolls his eyes and our lips meet in the first kiss we've shared since leaving America, finally behind closed doors our hands hungrily search each other. I want him, so I reach for his belt, my mind feigns the feeling of him inside me, the vacancy I feel like a distant memory.

"Well, what do we have here?" Peeta springs off me and I poke my head out from behind the desk.

"What do you want Mason?" I ask, "Gale's not here…"

"This is _my_ room. So…" she closes the door, at least protecting our modesty, "Brainless, what do you think you're doing in my room?"

"Our room…" great, I'd have to share this small space with Gale's girlfriend.

"Oh, sweet, I was getting lonely in here, with Gale out on drops all the time…"

"Drops?"

"You know? Air drops? He goes out a few days ahead hides in a hole with some other jarhead protects the caravan. Not the safest job, or the most fun, but it's his," she shrugs flopping on her bed, "We are so not having girl night, and if you need the room to fuck your boy just lock the door. I won't tell if you won't," she winks.

"Peeta, maybe you should go get your room ready, I have to speak with Coin, remember?" he just nods and leaves.

"We are so having girls nights, painting toe nails, gushing about Justin Timberlake. I'm excited, are you excited?" I roll my eyes.

"I can hardly contain myself…" I tell her in a flat voice, "Now where's Coin's office?"

"With the other Generals, we have a five star from the Army here for the day, should be fun!" she jumps up and hooks her arm in mine, "I'll show you brainless, you'll get lost or make friends with lower scum… you know the _army_? I've been called _soldier_ more times than I can count."

I shudder for her as we leave the dormitories and head to the main building where mess and the offices are held. The facility is huge, a joint military base currently occupied by the USMC, Army, and apparently a Navy Seal team.

"Here you go, and don't let her scare you, she may look like a stuck up bitch with political aspirations and isn't afraid to step on a few backs to get there… But she's so much more…"

"See you at home dear," I joke.

Johanna hugs me, "If I had to share that closet with anyone… I'd rather it be you."

She runs off before I can say anything else, leaving me to knock on the door, "Come in," a female voice starts.

The door creeks open, inside is a middle aged woman marking a map. At the table sits Majors Odair and Abernathy, who smile faintly when they see me, but their attention is always on the woman. Her hair, not tied up as per regulation seems to fall in a sheet, perfectly even with no break. Her grey eyes are on me in an instant, much like the slush that forms after coal dust or salt mixes into the pure white snow that you just wish would go away, but instead freezes every single night.

"Close the door…" she says sharply.

I salute, "I hope this day finds you well, General Coin," she just smirks.

"Here two hours and you can't even properly greet your commanding officer," I bite my lip and take a seat only after she does.

"Forgive me…"

"Now, why would I do that? You had _one_ job. _One_ and that was to be a properly dressed, respectful Marine. Be a representation of everything we are… And you go off like some stupid foolish child!" she hisses.

I just nod, not willing to argue, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't demote you all the way down to private… Discharge you, or send you in with the boys that disable IED's?"

I cross my arms over my chest, "Because I'm the best shot on this base. You demote me, I can't snipe. You send me state side, you have to bring in some mediocre shot, you blow me up? You're going to have to explain to a lot of people why a long range shooter was disabling IED's."

Her eyes narrow, clearly she wasn't expecting me to fight back, "Major Abernathy, you were her commanding officer in Fallujah, please, explain to me her constant need to be insubordinate?"

"She's got a fire in her this one… A lot like you when you were her age Alma," he takes a sip from his canteen and makes a face, clearly not water there.

They begin talking about me as if I'm not there, so I continue staring at her hair, looking for a break, a split end… Anything.

"A good Marine takes her orders and doesn't fuck them up. She knows when to speak and when to hold her damn tongue," she snaps. I begin studying her map, realizing that there was no break in her hair, it was as if she cut it with a laser.

I see there are many X's several of which marked _Hawthorne, Everdeen, _"What is this?" I ask, out of turn.

"This is where you will be dropped," Coin points to one X, "In three days."

"Dropped?"

"Yes, overnight, we've had one too many of our air drops raided. A caravan is going out in four days, you and Hawthorne, who will be here any minute now…" she says after looking at her watch, "Will be flown to the location you will, under the cover of night, drop to your assigned location and scout out the location… Under cover of course."

I gulped, this was a dangerous job, the roads out of the city covered in IED's and Shiite forces waiting to spring into action, though it was much safer than being on the actual caravan.

"You will return on the caravan once the supplies are secure…"

"Doesn't that give away our location?"

"We never drop the same spot twice in a row, and never follow a pattern. We haven't lost a caravan since…" she smiles, proud of her little plan to drop Gale and I into a hole as the only defense to our life line.

"As you have been… indisposed for the last two weeks, you will be joining Lieutenant Enobaria for PT every morning at 0700," I nodded, seeing Odair cringe.

"A lieutenant running PT?" I question, I figured that would be my job at least for the females.

"She is the highest ranking female able to do this job, you could have the position if you prove yourself able…" I nod, "I'd even still consider you for Officer Candidate School…"

Abernathy spoke up finally, "Too late General, Paylor, myself and Finnick already recommended her for her exemplary performance in Fallujah and during the trial."

Coin's fist hit the table, "She is a hot headed child unable to follow simple orders."

"No, she's determined, able to think under pressure… Everything an Officer should be," he takes another drink.

"You are all dismissed…" she grumbles, "I want you three out of my sight…"

When the door closes Odair is the first to speak, "What crawled up her ass and died?"

"She's always like this… Since Desert Storm, she wasn't a four star General at that point but she was still the biggest bitch I've ever seen…" he shrugged, "Anyway. I'm going to go see my new daughter."

"You're going home?"

"I wish, I don't have leave for another month."

I frowned, this was one reason I didn't want children… I couldn't leave them stateside.

"Good luck man, tell Sophia her godfather loves her already," he pats Abernathy on the back.

"You sure a shit are not my daughter's godfather…" I just chuckle and leave them, not wanting to invade their private moment.

* * *

"This morning, as you all know, we will be going through the Physical Fitness test, since many of you are due and the rest could use the practice," I kicked at the ground, the dust covering my tan boot.

"Since I have you listed by rank… We'll go highest to lowest…" I looked at the insignia's on everyone's arms.

_Private… PFC… PFC… Private… Lance Corporal… Corporal… Sergeant…_

I quickly realized I was the highest ranking victim of Lieutenant Enobaria's particular brand of torture. Johanna stood by her side, this morning assisting in the test.

"Flexed arm hang first, sit-ups next. Then hydrate and wait for the rest of the group to finish and you'll do the three mile," I nod stepping from the group and dropping my button up to the ground. Sweat already seeped from my skin damping my back. The bar was barely out of my reach and as always there was no stool for me to get up on.

"You start once your elbow's lock," I crouch down a little and jump up, grasping the bar and pulling myself up until my chin is above the bar.

Early on this was my hardest test, then I learned the secret. I closed my eyes and put myself as far away from here as possible… my mind traveled to the woods on the outside of the Seam, where Gale and I spent our youth hunting to feed our family. I remembered the breeze through the valley, the way the trees rustled in the spring. Finally my arms turned to jello and I let myself fall.

"Seventy five seconds, well done…" I nod, "Next!" I go to Johanna whose job it is to hold my feet.

"Gale and I have a surprise for you," she says about fifteen seconds into my two minutes, "You'll love it, I think."

"Awesome…" I grunt having already lost count, "You're counting right?"

She just nods, "You know Gale pretty well right?"

"Mhm…" I hold myself at the top for a second, before lowering back down and continuing.

"He's been calling home a lot, do you think something's wrong? He keeps mentioning someone named Waterfall…"

"That's what his family calls Old Man Hawthorne…" she taps my leg letting me know I'm done.

"Eighty-four, and why would they call their grandfather Waterfall?"

Even I don't know the answer to that, and I'm pretty sure I can't go through the Hawthorne Family history without Gale present, "Who knows? Maybe he's getting his grandmother's engagement ring… Hazelle gave it to Waterfall after Isaac died…" I shrugged.

She grabbed my knees… hard, "What," I wince.

"Kidding, I'm kidding, I'm sure he'd never propose to you!" I roll away from her hawk like grasp standing up, "Geeze, and I thought I was the only commitaphobe here…"

It takes a half hour for the rest of the girls to finish their first tests. I've basically already passed since my 100 from my flexed arm hang and 84 from crunches means I have about a half hour to run three miles to place in the first bracket. I could walk and still pass at this point, as long as it's under 31 minutes, the cut off for my age group.

After the first mile of our run I wished I didn't push myself so hard. The hot Baghdad sun soaked me through, my pants chafed my inner thighs, my boots, still new since my old pair was destroyed by blood, pinched my toes and blistered my heels.

But I finished in first, in twenty two minutes flat.

"Everdeen, you're dismissed," I nod, soaked in my own sweat, ready to go and shower.

* * *

"Come on, come on!" I wasn't even allowed to put shoes on before Johanna pulled me from our room. I was in a t-shirt and shorts, my hair still damp.

"Jo, you're going to rip my arm out!" I hissed as she pulled me to the men's dormitories, she stopped me and covered my eyes out side of Gale and Peeta's door.

"Don't peak!" I hear the door open and she pushes me through, nearly knocking me to the ground.

"Jesus, Jo…"

"Hey, when I have a surprise, I do it right!"

"Can I look now?"

"Oh, yeah…" she drops her hands form my eyes and sitting in Peeta's lap is a very confused looking kitten with orange ears and an orange tail.

"Is that…"

Peeta smiles and nods, "Yeah!" I sit on his bed and take Amal.

"We saw him pawing around the building you were pinned under when Peeta and I went back to Fallujah while you were in the hospital… Then after you two left he walked from the town to the base."

"I snuck him in here he's a good boy, goes to the bathroom outside, comes and goes as he pleases…"

I cradle the cat as it paw's at my dog tags, "Aw… Honey can we keep him?"

The door's closed, Johanna caught us making out and I'm sure Gale already knew. We could be open about our relationship here.

He put his arm around my waist, "It costs a lot to get an animal back in the states…"

I frown as Amal smacks my cheek by accident, "But… You have a dog, Prim has that little shit of a cat… I can't be the only kid without a pet!" I whine almost unable to stop myself from grinning.

Peeta just sighs, "Fine…" the cat springs from my arms, hopping to the windowsill meowing loudly, "He only comes back at night, we had to corral him in here," I nod as Gale pushes the window open, why they open is beyond me, but the cat springs out disappearing into the hot sun to hunt.

I couldn't stop grinning, maybe there was some good left in this hellish desert.


	18. Prisoner

**There is a decent jump in time half way through this chapter (like a few months) figured you guys wanted to get to the action! Or... at least the event that spurs the ACTION!**

* * *

June_ 2003_

"To whom do I owe this honor?" a massive hand pushes my goggles down from my helmet to my face, their loose strap making them fall from my face, "Guard duty with the girl on fire?"

I fix my goggles and tighten the strap just to be sure they can't fall again, "I think it's my honor, that we're on patrol in the hot summer sun, you carrying me?"

Thresh, without asking, puts his hands under my armpits and lifts me like I weigh nothing, "Nah, you're too fat."

My jaw drops but he just grins, "Kidding, sarge, geeze…"

We have a fixed guard post, me on a sniper rifle, him on look out, "So where are you from?" I ask feeling the uneasy quiet.

"Atlanta… You?"

"You should know this…"

"Listen, I don't remember the name of your crazy white mountain town…" I tilt the gun up to look at the sky bright and blazing. The dry season would soon give way to the wet season, and by that maybe one or two rainy days during my time here.

"Wilkes-Barre… Well, kind of south of it. And that's one of the easiest to say, I mean besides Scranton and Centralia," I look at the layer of dust on the ground and begin writing, A-Q-U-A-S-H-I-C-O-L-A, "Say this town name."

He goes for the word phonetically saying the shi like shish kabob, "Not even close it's shick like the razor. Aqua-shick-la."

"Crazy white people…"

"Please… Let me remind you of Mauritania, Mozambique, and Botswana…"

"What about Morocco?"

I look up from the gun to study him, "Please…" I go back to studying the clouds seeing my comment hasn't offended the man, "I loved Casablanca."

He just chuckles. We keep this shift through the hottest part of the desert summer, Thresh quickly being a breath of fresh air from the hasty kisses and romantic trysts between Peeta and I, or the mocking glances of the Majors who are becoming suspicious of the friendship between Peeta and I, Johanna and her sarcasm and paranoia about Gale wanting to marry her, and Gale's protectiveness.

The summer passes and I'm never given the option to test for Gunny. Guess Coin likes me where I am.

_September 2003_

"Are you sure he won't walk in?" I'm not sure I care to be honest, I'm already untucking his shirt.

"I told him to go spend the last few hours with Jo in your room, so we could have this one," he bites down on my lip earning a quiet moan, the bed was creaky so we agreed the more boring positions like missionary and cowgirl were out of the question. We break the kiss only to pull off our shirts and my sports bra.

"Shit…" I groan rubbing my hands over his abs, we were both basically getting our asses kicked in PT every morning, and it showed… Oh did it show. I was developing a six pack, his was well… still gorgeous.

"What?" he looks worried as I go for his belt and button fly and he slides down my sweat shorts.

"You just…" our pants fall to the floor and my lips crash into his, "Shut up and fuck me…"

"Demanding…" he hooks his thumbs in my underwear, sliding it down my toned thighs as I push down his boxers, almost immediately sinking down to take him in my mouth.

"Mmm," I groan onto him as I taste a drip of precum ooze into my mouth.

"Babe…" he taps my shoulders, "Get up…" I roll my eyes and give the head one last lick before getting to my feet, "How are we going to do this?" he rubs his chin as I close his computer and move books to his bed before sitting on the desk.

"Problem solved," I purr my one leg dangling, the other on his chair, spreading my legs so he could see how wet I was. Just to tease I sneak two fingers inside me.

"Why are you trying to rush things?" he asks, pulling my hand from me, licking my fingers. I shudder as his tongue snakes around my middle and ring finger.

"Peeta, darling, I have to leave in two hours, one hour of that needs to be spent getting my stuff together and I want to get as much cuddle time in as possible," I tell him.

He cocks an eyebrow, "_Cuddle_ time?"

"Yes, I want my man to hold me before I'm stuck in a hole stranded for a day or so until they lift us out after the air drop…"

He gave me a knowing look before pulling me to his chest, "You're afraid…" he whispers.

"Maybe… but please, we haven't _done_ anything in three weeks…" I look up at him and pout, _"_Please?" I feel his hard erection poking on my thigh. Maybe if I tilt my hips just a little…

But as soon as I doubt that I won't get what I desire most he grips my hips and eases into me, taking my face into his hands and biting down on my lip in his clumsy kiss. I sneak my hand down to toy with myself. Each of my moans are muffled by his lips his tongue only daring to enter my mouth once or twice. My nails though bitten short scratch at his back, surely leaving marks, we don't last long, the time apart though short has left us hungry for each other's flesh. We moan into each other's mouths as first I come then as a result of my muscles contracting on him he spilled his seed deep within me. We barely had a chance to catch our breath before he picks me up and lowers me on the bed.

"There…" he whispers crawling over me to spoon me, "Now, why are you afraid?"

"I'm not afraid… I'm…" I bite my lip and roll over so we're facing each other, his leg tossed over my hips, "Nervous, people's lives are in my hands…"

"Katniss…" he sighs, kissing my forehead.

"I… I've never felt like this before…"

"Nervous?"

"No, about… about you…" I bite my lip and furrow my brow, how _did_ I feel about Peeta?

That I didn't know… Was it love? It was strong… but was it love?

"In DC, you vowed that if… if it came down to it you would lay your life down… for mine…"

"and I mean every word of it, Katniss I-" I press my fingers to his lips.

"Peeta, I'm not done… I just…" I squeeze my eyes shut, organizing my thoughts, "If we're in a spot, where I could save you, at the cost of my own life… I'd do it. I'd take a bullet for you…"

He kisses my forehead, and then says the three words, most painful for me to ever hear. The three most confusing, most painful, most vile words… But so beautiful out of his lips, but my ears are unworthy.

"I love you…" he whispers. I don't have time to respond though, I'm not sure I can because there's a knocking on the door. I dive from the bed and pull on my underwear, tossing Peeta his clothes as I sloppily dress and unlock the door.

As I tuck my shirt and button my pants Gale opens the door, "Forgot my coat…" he smirks seeing my blush, "We gotta head out Kat…"

I nod and turn back to Peeta, who looks so confused, "I'll see you in a few days… Please, be safe," is all he says, not daring to move to kiss me goodbye even with the closed door.

"You too…" I smile faintly before nearly running out before I do something stupid like cry.

Silently Gale and I ready ourselves, we're encumbered by extra water which we still have to ration, though it will be easier now that the max temperature barely pushes 110 in the bunkers we'll hide in.

"Ready?" he asks, holding his hand out for my dog tag which he hangs for roll, there are empty hooks, every one soon to be occupied by the caravan.

I nod, we had done this once a week, sometimes twice a week since July. I had barely seen combat since then, the only other time was a two week period when I was sent into Baghdad. Peeta had spent every single day in the city after the first week back, and much to my dismay when I was sent to the city, I was kept far from him.

As was the usual when anything romantic was suspected.

The first three times they strapped me to Gale so he could chute us down, not trusting me to not splatter myself on the beautiful desert 'countryside', according to Gale now I was a pro.

"So what was with all the weird vibes back there?"

"Vibes?" I ask setting up my gun, we'd scout for the first six hours, radioing back that there was no threat, even still if we thought it was dangerous Coin would press on anyway.

As she had proven six drops back when we lost the head of our caravan after we cautioned that conditions were dangerous.

The biggest threat to a servicemen in the Middle East wasn't a bullet, but the misplaced box, or oddly dug up spot concealing lethal explosives.

"Answer the question Kat…"

I snap my magazine in, "Peeta… Told me he loved me…"

"To which you said…"

"Nothing…"

"Kat you can tell me. I've know you for how long?" he grabs my shoulders rubbing them.

"No, Gale, I couldn't say _anything_ then you knocked on the door and I hopped out of bed like it was on fire…"

"Well, what were you talking about before then?"

I bite my lip, staring at the stars through the small hole where my barrel would poke through, easily over looked, we were about a half mile from the drop site. Very easy to overlook, "Just… Drop the topic, or else I'd bring up you calling Waterfall near Johanna next time I see her."

He rolls his eyes, "I'll get first watch, go get some sleep Katniss…"

I use my pack as a pillow but I don't sleep. I can't get the image of Peeta's hurt and confused face from my mind. We had such a good thing! Why did he have to ruin it with something like love!

"I know you're not asleep…" Gale starts quietly, "And I know why you're scared. Your mom was destroyed after your father died. You think that any romantic relationship will lead to pain like that…" I don't open my eyes, maybe if I pretend he'll stop talking, "But without opening her heart to begin with… she wouldn't have gotten all those happy years, or you and Prim…" I roll from him, his words ring true but I don't want to hear them, "You love him, Katniss, I see it in how you look at him. How when we come back you rush to see if he's back from the city… You check for his tag the second you're back in that base and when it's still there you pace until he gets back. If it's not there you rush to his room just to be sure he's still there…"

I move my hands to childishly cover my ears, I wouldn't hear this… I lay like that, trying not to focus on Peeta, I had a job to do, but he was always in my thoughts.

"Go to sleep Gale, it's my turn to watch…" the sun would be up soon, then the real work began, it was easier to scout during the day. I tried to focus, but I was a prisoner of my own thoughts.

_I love him…_ I finally concluded… It made sense, if I didn't why would this all affect me so deeply? The thought was so liberating, so freeing.

Did he hate me for not saying it earlier? Would he understand?

"All clear…" I radioed around 1030, I just wanted to get back, I just wanted to see Peeta again. To fix everything.

Gale and I watched, ready to pounce as four pallets were dropped to the ground, chutes slowing their fall. Within minutes we hear the humvee's only four traversing the makeshift road. The packing only takes about a half hour and now comes the tricky part. The part that reveals our location…

Quickly we pack up, it would only take about ten minutes for the chopper to get here, and lower its ladder for us to return to the base.

This is my least favorite part, I always make Gale go first so he can haul me into the bird.

"You're in better spirits," Gale shouts over the deafening noise of the propeller.

"Of course I am Hawthorne, I'm in love!" I shout, he just smirks.

When we touch down I rush to the board and pull my tag, putting it back around my neck.

There are only a few left, too few to be any group still in the city.

I gulped, either we suffered casualties today, or POW's were taken.

_Mason, Johanna… Cresta, Annie… Enobaria, Charlotte…_

There's one more that I pull from the board.

_Mellark, Peeta…_

__I stare in disbelief for who knows how long, the reality and gravity of the situation not hitting me, "It's about time you showed up…" Major Abernathy pulls the tags from the board, "They were attacked out in the city…"

"Are they… dead?" I think of Gale… the woman he was going to propose to, and hopefully marry, gone. Odair… his sweet Annie, the quiet but still so strong girl… and my lieutenant, though a hard woman, I respected her.

And my Peeta… the man I _love_.

Gone.

"No… Prisoner… Some Shiiet militia…" he puts the tags in my hand, "You have calls to make…"

My stomach tightens, calls home… To tell families that their sons and daughters were prisoners of war.

"Hawthorne outranks me… he-"

"You can't expect him to call home when his girlfriend is missing? Odair is a wreck…" he scratches his chin, five o'clock shadow already showing.

"We'll get them back… Major Abernathy… We'll get them back… Right?"

"We'll try sweetheart…"

The tags clank around my finger as I make my way to a quiet office the directions clearly printed.

I call for Enobaria first, a young girl picks up. Her next of kin is a Jacob Enobaria… her husband.

"Is your father there?" I ask, it's very early morning there.

"_My daddy says don't talk to strangers,"_ I would smile at this… if I wasn't being held together by my Kevlar vest.

"Please, it's very important…" but she's already passed off the phone.

"_Hello?"_

"Jacob Enobaria?"

"_This is he…"_

"Mister Enobaria, my name is Sergeant Everdeen, I'm with the United States Marine Corps…"

"_Oh god…"_ I grab at my stomach, remembering my mother in this position.

"The platoon she was out with today, was attacked, your wife is missing and assumed to be a prisoner of war…"

I hear a single sob, _"Oh… Oh god… Charlotte…"_ I sit there for longer than I should, listening to him sob.

"_Daddy, why are you sad?" _the little girl asks.

"Thank you, and we will do everything in our power to return your wife to you." I hang up the phone.

One down, three to go.

Annie and Johanna list their mothers as their next of kin, the reactions are similar to Enobaria's wife, I sit and listen to them sob until I'm alone in the quiet room one tag staring back at me.

I run my fingers over his name, _Mellark, Peeta, _followed by his social security number, is blood type, O positive.

Last is his religious preferences, we've never discussed this, ever, but his reads _Methodist._

My father's read the same, it's a popular branch out in the mountains…

I finally decide I can't put it off anymore and dial the number, it's so familiar, but so foreign.

"_Hello? Peeta, is that you?"_ a woman answers, her voice was hoarser than I remember, most likely from years of yelling at her three boys_._

"Misses Mellark?"

"_No…"_

"My… My name is Staff Sergeant Katniss Everdeen… I am stationed with your son in Baghdad. He…" I bite my lip, tears welling in my eyes, "His party was attacked today in the city, he is missing and is assumed to be a prisoner of war…"

She sobs, and soon I join her, together we cry over her missing son, my missing love for a good half hour until she composes herself.

"_What are you doing to get my boy back?"_ her voice has the familiar bite to it.

"We will do everything in our power to return your son, ma'am, thank you, and I hope when next we speak I'm informing you of your son's safe return. God bless."

I lean forward in the chair and begin pulling the pins from my hair, letting it fall so I can run my hands through it nervously. The door swings open, "Done?" Abernathy asks.

"Y-yeah…"

"The first time is the hardest… I had to call home for your old man," I nod and stand trying to push past the major, avoiding his gaze like the plague, "Come on, Coin's called a meeting…" he says grabbing my wrist and pulling me down the hall like a rag doll.

000


	19. The Building Thunder

**I felt bad leaving you guys hanging... **

_September 2003_**  
**

I don't let go of Peeta's dog tag, it's the last piece I have of him. No, I can't think like that. He needs me to be strong, he needs me to fight.

"We will follow standard procedure. Wait for proof of life before acting," I narrow my eyes at Coin, "Is there something you would like to say, _Sergeant_ Everdeen?"

"We should have a plan, a course of action so we can act swiftly, they couldn't have gotten them far. One of them has to have something on them that can be tracked! A GPS, a radio, something!"

"We will do the best we can to figure out their location, until then you're all dismissed…"

We don't go far, the second the door's closed Odair holds out his hand, "Annie's tag… _Now!_" I jump and dig through my pocket handing him Cresta's before giving Johanna's to Gale and running from the group.

"Katniss!" footsteps trail me but I squeeze my eyes shut, navigating to the one place I feel safest.

"Leave me alone!" I hiss throwing Peeta and Gale's door open, throwing myself on his bed. It's made perfectly. The door slams just as I begin hugging Peeta's pillow, "I said-"

"It's my room, I should be kicking you out…" the window opens and within seconds the cat curls up next to me.

"Please… Please don't kick me out…" my thumb brushes the words on Peeta's tag, feeling his name imprint on his finger as my tears soak the white sheets.

"With you as pathetic as you are?" his bed creaks, "Please…"

I roll over startling the cat, he settles for laying at my head, "I'm not pathetic!" I hiss.

"Nah…" I notice the tears down his cheeks, "Just me…" I pull the pillow and blanket from Peeta's bed and climb over Gale.

"Just like before basic?" he rolls over and wraps his arms around me, adjusting the blanket so we're covered.

"Just like before basic…" I confirm before the sobs overtake both of us. At some point Amal joins us on the bed, curling up at our heads to protect us from any further pain.

We sleep through dinner, and at some point late I'm woken up from a dream filled with the sobs of the families I just had to call, most of all Misses Mellark.

I get out of bed, not disturbing Gale or the cat, I don't bother putting on my shoes or making myself presentable. Emotion is something somewhat new to me, well, more like strong emotions. Previously I believed myself to be only action, pure action.

I'm not exactly sure how to handle being driven by heart break and the pain of a missing love… But it brings me outside Major Abernathy's room.

I knock loudly hearing a stir after a few seconds. He hasn't bothered to shave and greets me in a wife-beater and boxers, "Well well sweetheart… I was wondering when you'd show up…"

Emotions suck.

My fist makes contact with his jaw, making him stumble back and I close the door behind us, "You're a fucking bastard you know that!" I take fistfuls of his shirt, "You knew! You made fun of us all the time about 'making eyes' and sneaking off to fuck, then you make me call his momma!" he rips my hands from his shirt and smacks me. Hard.

"Sit down Everdeen."

I ball my fists, "I'd rather stand," I wipe some blood from my lip.

"Be my guest!" his piercing eyes are on me, "I covered your fucking ass since your smart mouth got back," he picks up a very illegal bottle of rum and takes a long swig, "And this is how you repay me!" he paws at his jaw, a bruise already forming.

"You made me call his mother, tell her that her son was missing. Someone I care about someone I-" I bite my finger.

"Ask me what you want to ask Everdeen, or I'll do everything I can to get your ass kicked out for assaulting your commanding officer."

We stare each other down for a good minute until my tunnel vision disappears, "Why?"

"Gale and Finnick can't go to save them, _if_ we get that opportunity. Your separate assignments made it easier to keep your relationship, or sexual habits secret," my nails dig into my palm, threatening to break the skin, "I need someone I can trust on that mission."

"_If_ there is a mission," I snap.

"Listen, sweetheart. You're in Coin's crosshairs as it is… but maybe she already has a… _hint_ at where they're being held."

"What I… she WHAT?" I shout.

"Sweetheart!" he grabs my wrist just as I go to haul ass to Coin's office… or where ever she stays, "Listen, running in hot headed isn't going to save your boy, it isn't going to help anyone," his grip loosens, "What you need to do is become the best damn marine you can. You'll be leading PT now that Enobaria is… Well, you'll be leading it. Coin's eyes are going to be on you at all times. Impress her," I nod wiping the tears from my eyes, "I'll be putting the pressure on her to send a party on the coordinates she got off… Well… That she got."

I nod again, mouthing 'thank you'.

"Sit down, let me tell you a story."

"Major Abernathy, I'm twenty two, I'm not into-"

"That's an order!" I roll my eyes, and sit on his unmade bed, "Your father is the reason I'm here today," I find his eyes, searching for some shadow of a lie, "he was my lieutenant…" he sighs, taking another sip and offering me some which I decline, "And one day… we were just over run. I took a shot to the leg… your old man pulled me to safety before going for another when…" he takes another swig, "When the explosions started going off. When the dust settled your old man and Hawthorne were on where to be found…"

"I… I didn't know…"

"He always bragged about his girls, and the second I saw your name on our roster I knew you'd do big things. Rushing in the heat of _passion_" he teases, "is going to get you sent home when people need you the most." I hug myself.

"If I didn't call they would get suspicious… and I'd be unable to go…"

"Exactly, especially with the technology we have now, I'd be surprised if you're not out on the rescue in a week…"

I nod, but his week turns into a month with no sign of life.

_November 2003_

In the last four weeks I had become the ideal Marine. My hair was always back in a tight bun, my bed was always made, mostly because I slept in Peeta's, I lead drills and PT like a pro.

"What is this?" I stand in the door of a private's room, her bed unmade, room a mess.

"I- I was getting to it…" she goes back to her computer which I shut.

"While on base you are on duty twenty four seven private, at which time you are expected to keep both yourself and your living space…" I bend over and pick up one of many pairs of underwear off the ground, "Neat and orderly. Would you like to see _my_ room as an example?"

"Easy for you, you're always sleeping with Sergeant Hawthorne," I narrow my eyes at her and she flinches.

"Would you care to see _his_ room?" I place my arms behind my back.

"No, ma'am."

"Good, I'll see you at PT in one hour, plenty of time to get this place perfect," I exit her room and nearly crash into Thresh.

"Geeze Sarge, keeping the riff raff in line?" he throws his arm around my shoulder.

"Just some messy privates. You know how they are…"

His eyes light up and he chuckles, "Thresh, seriously? That wasn't meant to be perverted…"

"Sorry… You going to eat?" I shake my head no.

"Already ate, going to spend some time at the range before I have to run my ladies…"

"Damn girl, take a morning off you've been like G. I. Jane since-" he shuts up quickly.

No one places bets on me at the range, they know I never miss.

Gale had claimed that I was becoming a robot, going through the routine of my day without diverting, running PT emotionless, and silently working my patrol, he didn't see Coin's cold eyes always burning holes in my back.

When she wasn't watching me someone else was, I knew she was looking for some excuse to send me packing.

I removed my hearing protection and heard something unfamiliar in this part of the world, a roll of thunder that shook me to my core. It was the slow distant rumble, the first sign that something was building. It wasn't hard to find the dark storm clouds heading for the base.

I hear pitter patter on the ground and hold out my hand to catch a drop before laughing.

It was storming in the desert.

My ladies are organizing for PT still in the dormitories when I enter, my boots muddy from the now downpour, "Ladies!" I shout, "Due to hazardous conditions and inclement weather there will be no PT today, please take this time to make sure your belongings and rooms are in order… There will be room checks at 1200."

I head back to my seldom used room to change out of my soaked clothes and fix my hair when there's a knock on my door, "It's unlocked," I pull my shirt over my head as the door opens, "Good morning Major Odair, what brings you here?"

"Follow me kid."

000

"Eat."

"Fuck off…" I push my food away, the third meal I've skipped in a row.

"You're being tested for gunny in two hours, Katniss, eat."

"Finnick Odair, if you don't fuck off right now I will stab you," I hiss.

The redhead crosses his arms over his chest, eyes going between my food and my slouched posture, arms crossed on the table head almost resting on them, "Listen, I'm trusting you with the life of the one person in this damn world I love. Either you eat on your own or I force it in your mouth," he pushes the tray to me.

I take my fork and stab at a carrot as if it was about to attack me and shove it in my mouth, "There, was that so hard?" he reaches over and pinches my cheek.

"Who even knows if they're still alive?" I grumble with my mouth full of stew.

"Coin, a video was sent here like… a week ago?"

"A… _week!_" I think of all the meetings I've been in with her in the last seven days and stand up from my chair.

"Everdeen… Sit back down I'm sure she-" but I don't listen, I can't listen. She's had proof of life for a _week_.

Seven days.

One hundred and sixty eight hours.

I'm too pissed to think of the minutes when I throw open her door, greeted by her and Major Abernathy watching a video of Mason, Enobaria, Cresta and Peeta at gunpoint.

She turns it off calmly, "You've… you've known… for a week?"

"It wasn't prudent to engage or organize a rescue mission at that time," she taps a stack of papers, lining them up just like her blonde hair, "We had no confirmation of location, whether or not the first video is old…"

"First?" I step in the room, not closing the door, "There's more?"

"Two more, only this one was time stamped two days ago. They've been sending tapes to a journalist to show to the world and instead she sends them straight to me," she seems pleased with herself.

"When are we leaving to get them?"

"Sergeant Everdeen, what part of no confirmation of location do you not grasp?" she sits down.

"General Coin, wars are not won by sitting behind desks and making safe moves. They're won by creativity and gall and if you sit idly by while four of our own are held captive then, at least here, this war is already lost."

She smiles, "Major Abernathy, cancel Sergeant Everdeen's examination for later today," the lights flicker and thunder rolls, "Indefinitely."

I swallow, but don't budge, "And please leave us, I need to have a word with Sergeant Everdeen… Or should it be Corporal? Private maybe? Or should I send you home, dishonorably discharge you?" the door closes and we're alone, I've shaken this woman up, and she would shame me for it, "All this anger, all this pressure everyone has been putting on you… Out of love…"

I ball my fist, "General, it has nothing to do with love, I have a debt to pay, a promise to keep, and I'll be damned if some coward behind a desk will stop me from keeping my word. We have proof of life, you know where they are, I know you do. Or at least you have an idea. I'd rather go to a location and come up empty then let them have my friends for one more day," she folds her hands and rests her chin on her laced fingers, "It's raining, it's a perfect cover, especially if this lasts until nightfall."

"We don't know how many we're up against."

"They're a poorly trained civilian militia, we're Marines. You do the math."

She sighs, "Tell Major Abernathy you head out to the location at 1900. Report back here in two hours for a debriefing before the mission," she stands up and rounds her desk, getting close to me as if to threaten me, "You have given me a hundred good reasons to demote you, to dishonorably discharge you… If your little plan fails I'll be out a Major, and many good men… But one big pain in my ass."

I salute her, not sarcastically, "And when I'm successful, you'll have back a lieutenant, two sergeants, and the best damned Corporal I've ever seen."

"Get out of my sight," she says through clenched teeth, "If you are successful, maybe I'll give you Gunnery anyway, but if you fail and survive you will be off my base and out of the Marine Corps before you can blink."

"Thank you, General," we salute and I leave, I have to find Haymitch.


	20. Liberation

_This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine._

_My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life._

_My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will..._

_My rifle and myself know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, or the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit..._

_My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will..._

_Before God, I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life._

_So be it, until victory is America's and there is no enemy, but peace!_

-The Rifleman's Creed

* * *

"We have good reason to believe four of our own are being held here," Abernathy points to a circled building, "About an hour outside of Mahmudiyah…" the key to our success was the rain especially since we weren't rocked by thunder. Surprise was our greatest weapon, a party of fifteen of us, led by Major Abernathy would be lifted to a two miles south of the location where we'd drop. Then under the cover of night we'd head to the location.

"Now, we don't know what we're up against, we can only assume we'll be out numbered, we can only assume that there are civilians in there. We launch at 1900."

I know the first place I have to go, "Gale!" I catch him along his patrol, "Gale, we're leaving tonight, we're going to do it, we're going to get them back!"

His face was a mix of concern and hope as he pulled me to his chest, "We're not in the clear yet…"

"Not even close… if we fail I'm being discharged…"

He grabs my shoulders and pushes me back to look in my eyes, "What?"

"Don't worry about it Gale, when have I ever failed?" I try to smile, I really do, but this mission is such a gamble, any number of things could go wrong only one of them being the loss of my life.

"All the times you've tried to run from Waterfall's hunting dog," the rain beats down on our heads but we ignore it, for the first time in a month we're smiling.

"I'll get past that dog someday, if I can get past Cray's bloodhound I can get past Ol' Red."

He puts his hand in my hair and ruffles it, destroying my bun and popping pins out, "Fix your hair, you don't want to look like some stranger for your beau," he laces his fingers, placing his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes to taunt me.

I smirked, our path taking us to the Female dormitories, "I think I'll even do my make-up."

He cocked an eyebrow, I wasn't one to fix my face.

I left my hair loose to dry as Odair, Thresh and the fox like redhead I've only seen once or twice around the base nervously pick at dinner, "Sergeant Everdeen, this is Lance Corporal Scotts," I shook the redhead's hand, "She and Thresh will be going with you and Abernathy tonight."

Her eyes dart between the two men and I during our meal, "Everyone's staring…" I rip apart my bread.

"The Seals thought they were going, then… I think we have some Green Beret's…"

I drink my soup, "We'll rescue our own, and even some of theirs someday," I grinned.

"I've never jumped out of a plane before," Scotts says suddenly.

"It's easy, you just kind of step off and when you're told you pull your cord…"

"Why can't we just take a chopper? Land a mile out, hike to the location…"

"Too noisy," I tell her with a full mouth, "The plane will be quiet, there are planes flying overhead all the damn time they won't suspect anything. By the time the choppers get here we'll already be inside."

"That… that's brilliant."

I nod a little, "Thanks, it was Major Abernathy's idea…"

"Now come on Sweetheart, you're not going to take credit for _your_ brainchild?"

I jump a little and look up, a clean shaven major towering over me, "Won't do me much good, chances are I'm not going for any promotions, you on the other hand…" I go back to my food, "You could go places…"

"Yes, home," he slaps down a paper, "Just got this today, my tour is done a week from today," he grabs my shoulders and gives them a squeeze, "So don't fuck it up sweetheart."

* * *

"Missing something?" I dig through my desk, my bags, everything.

"My compact…" I grumble.

"You… you weren't kidding about your make-up were you Katniss?"

"Gale Hawthorne, you've known me for how long?" I finally feel it, about the size of my palm with desert camo on the outside, camouflage paint, "When have I ever cared about something like _make-up_"

"Good point…" I was told to report at 1800, five minutes from now, "Guess this is it?"

I nod, my stomach doing flips, "Mhm… We'll do it Gale…" I hug his torso, "We'll do it or I'll die trying."

"You can't die, I won't allow it…" I smile sadly, this was something out of Gale's control, "What's this?" he asks picking up the bird pin I was given in Fallujah.

"I was given it before by a woman in Fallujah, she said that I watch over the city from my hawk post…" I smile remembering the little bit of good I've seen in this hellish desert, he pins it under my collar.

"For luck…" his lips find my forehead, "I'm going to marry that woman Katniss, mark my words…"

000

"Is it true that you can't put on mascara without opening your mouth open?" I smudged more light brown on my face and rolled my eyes.

"I wouldn't know," I look at his paint, "You used too much green, we're in the desert not forest…" I pat his back, "Take mine," stealth and surprise are our greatest weapon tonight.

We have to blend in with the night and the desert. It was a hot debate between Abernathy and I whether or not we should swap camo with a black uniform. The only reason we stand here in full desert camo is because our vests are a light tan, "Ready?" he toys with a chevron pin in his hand.

"See this?" Three chevrons pointing up, two rockers, rifles crossing each other in the center.

"It's a gunny's pin…"

"It'll be _your_ gunny pin. I don't care what Coin says, you've run drill for the last month, whipped a bunch of whiny bitchy excuses for Marines into ideal servicewomen. You're crafty, creative, damn talented with a rifle."

I swing my rifle from behind my back so it's in my hands, "This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me my rifle is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless," he smiles and nods.

"Damn useless Everdeen. See you're breaking regulation again?" he reaches back flicking the tip of my braid.

"Shit… I forgot to put it back up…" I scramble ready to pull the tie and wrap a bun but he stops me.

"We gotta head out, just tuck it and lets go…"

We hang our tags on the board, though I add four more. Our POW's are coming home tonight, they can finally claim their tags when they get here.

I take my three middle fingers and kiss them, pressing them to Peeta's, "You've saved my life twice Mellark…" I whisper.

* * *

"Ladies first," I hear Abernathy tell me through my earpiece, as the back of the plane opens. My chute is strapped tightly.

We'd have to space out jumpers so no one gets tangled so I run for the ramp.

If someone told me when I was growing up I would be jumping out of a plane to save four POW's I would have laughed at them. Now it doesn't seem so crazy. I kick off the back ramp forcing myself to spin around and salute my party before I drop out of sight. A few seconds later another body follows and after that another.

The rain had stopped and as I pass through the cloud I feel the moisture prickle at my skin. I've never jumped form this far. It's amazing…

I pull my cord and within a minute or so I'm on the ground, my feet sticking a little in the wet muddy sand. I count the thuds of boots hitting the ground.

_One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten… Eleven… Twelve… Thirteen… Fourteen… Fifteen…_

All here.

Now for the fun part, a two mile hike hoping the rain holds out.

"We can't risk using the radio's because they have at least three of ours," he pulls a map out of his vest and puts a small flashlight in his mouth.

"We're two miles south of the target. No one is to speak once we set out, all nonverbal, you grunts remember that?"

There's a murmur in the group, a small chuckle, "We don't know the floor plan, but we do know the main means of ingress are here…" he points to the diagram of the house. We'll need two guarding this door, two around back… Danielson and Smith, you got back, Thresh and Scotts, you got front, the rest of us will perform a sweep of the house, hopefully extracting the targets. We were instructed to not take prisoners. These aren't civilians in there, they are the enemy. They captured our brothers and sisters and held them against their will with guns to their heads and knives to their throats. But be smart with who you aim at, we're not sure if there are women and children there as well…"

"Sir, yes, sir!" we respond.

"Take a knee, all of you, even you Everdeen." The wet ground doesn't soak through my knee pads, "Father, Your own son was a prisoner, condemned, he died for us, victorious, he returned to bring us  
the gift of life everlasting." The POW's prayer, we had a frame with this that we hung next to the cross in my mother's den until the day dad was returned to us, "Comfort us now in our longing for the return of the Prisoners of War, and those Missing In Action," everyone joins in, "Help Us, Father, inspire Us to remove the obstacles. Give courage to those who know the truth to speak out, grant wisdom to the negotiators, and compassion to the jailors. Inspire the media to speak out as loudly as they have in the past, protect those who seek in secret and help them to succeed. Show us the tools to do Your will.  
Guard and bless those in captivity, their families, and those who work for their release. Let them come home soon," our heads bowed in the middle of the desert ready to charge into the unknown we whisper the final four words, "Thank You, Father. Amen."

I take a sip from my canteen, people have many rituals before going on a dangerous mission. Some make crosses on their chest, some pray to their god. I instead look up at the sky looking for the stars hidden behind a thick veil of clouds that make this night impossibly dark and hopefully make it impossible for us to be spotted. A drop hits my eye.

"Let's move out…"

The night is cool making the trek easier than if done midday, the rain never gets heavier than a steady drizzle. Major and I walk in the front of the pack, when the building, barely lit by the outside lighting and the glow from the inside lights, comes into view he stops me passing his binoculars to me, it's difficult to see but there are two guards at the outside wall.

"Can you make that shot?" he whispers, we're still protected by the darkness, even more so since their eyes haven't had a chance to adjust to the dark to see the pack of armed Marines ready to charge.

I reach into my pockets pulling out a silencer, "Only one way to find out…" I screw it on and turn off the safety. I have to take out two of them, with no scope from a football field away.

I get down on one knee, taking aim. I can't aim for my usual target, the head, instead I go for their hearts. This needs to be quick.

_One shot, one kill_.

The only noise is my breathing as I adjust my aim once or twice, _Daddy… Please guide my bullet…_

I pull the trigger and in a few second the first drops, I have to re-aim quickly… It takes a fraction of a second for him to realize what's happening and as a shout builds in his throat my bullet silences him, "Move out…" there are no yells or doors opening. They really were the only two guards.

_Armatures…_

Two men check first to be sure there aren't waiting gunmen behind the wall. They give us the all clear and head in, going to the back to ensure no one escapes. We're swift, running with the shadows, following the darkness of the wall and crouching under the window before reaching the front door.

We don't bother entering nicely. Thresh and the Major kick the door in, the thin old thing splintering off the hinges.

The first thing you learn in room sweeps is to check up, it isn't only cops who don't look up but foolish servicemen who earn bullets in their head. The room, lit by a single incandescent bulb is occupied by women and children, "Thompson, Salvatore, make sure they stay out of the gunfire, and don't run," so much for no prisoners.

There's yelling as we snake into the next room, a kitchen like space where six men, armed with rifles wait, "Firing!" someone yells, we've split up at this point the four of us going right, five going left to sweep the building faster. Ours isn't the only gunfire the other party already engaging the enemies but no one saying they found the POW's.

We have to move quickly, the enemy could execute them at the drop of a hat at this point.

The gunfire silences, "Anyone hit!" I shout checking myself after the gunmen fall.

"All good, sarge!" our path leads us to a staircase to the basement, a bottle neck that we have to traverse carefully and quickly.

"Keep an eye on back," we're all low to the ground, in between a walk and a crouch as we descend into the inky black abyss, our path only lit by a flashlight on my rifle. A rifle stock crashes into my face when we reach the bottom of the stairs, meeting just under my eye.

"Shit!" I hiss, feeling a trickle of blood where the impact has broken the skin. A hand shoves me out of the way and one of my group opens fire there were three waiting for us all earning bullet holes.

"Move along… We can't stop…" I paw at my face a little, it isn't bad, nothing feels crunchy and broken.

I'm in the back now moving through the dark hallway praying our lead scans the room well enough when a hand covers my mouth another trying for the gun in my hands. I try to bite the fingers kick and flail my way out of their grasp but in the commotion of the house my movements and capture are unnoticed.

I'm pulled back into the inky darkness of the basement. A door closes behind us as I'm half carried half dragged. The hands throw me into a dark room my helmet flying off from my fall. But I still have my rifle… Why do I still have my rifle?

I pick myself up, assuming the three point firing position before the door slams and locks, my captor not joining me.

Something shifts behind me and I whirl around taking out my flashlight, four bodies with bags over their heads, arms and legs bound. My breath catches, they're not moving… Oh shit, oh shit.

The three smaller bodies, three women are huddled close to the larger, a man… Just smaller than I last remember Peeta. I reach for one of the cloth bags.

"Peeta!" I cry throwing my arms around him, his mouth is taped shut. I grimace as I pull the tape back from his scruffy face.

"Katniss?" his weak voice asks.

I smile and pull the bags and tape from Enobaria, Cresta and Mason before sawing through the ropes that bind their limbs.

"They left you with a knife?" Enobaria asks in disbelief.

"And a handgun and…" I pull the blade from my vest, "and my rifle."

The serrated edge slices through the rope on Peeta's hand with some effort, "You're bleeding…" His hand meets my cheek, hot on the soon to be bruise.

"It's nothing, they'll look at it when we get back," I try for the door, locked from the outside.

"There are two guards outside at all times, we've tried to escape twice…" Enobaria tells me as I take the rikity looking bookcase and table and push them both to their side in the corner, "Get behind here, all four of you. Peeta protests naturally, "Sergeant Mellark, you are in no condition to fight, get behind the barricade!"

"Major, I'm downstairs with the targets, behind a locked door," silence, "Major?" I look at the snapped antenna on my radio.

"Shit…"

"They left you with all your gear because they don't think you're a threat," I look for things I could use to grab the guards attention, bullets were precious, that was out of the question.

Someone must have used the radio because a loud shriek threatens to deafen me, "Damnit!" I hiss pulling the earpiece off and throwing it to the ground.

"What are you doing?" Peeta asks as I pick up a wooden chair.

"Luring the guards," I tell him simply before pulling quickly climbing to the top.

"Everdeen, this could be suicide…" Enobaria cautions.

I look between them, abused and exhausted, "I promised all of your families that you'd return home safe... I'm keeping that promise…"

Peeta's eyes meet mine but I look away, I can't let emotions cloud my judgment, "There is one thing you don't lock away in a room with a rifle unless you want this to end very… very bad…" I give one last glance to the table, the only thing besides me protecting four prisoners of war. I run at the door bashing at the knob with the wooden chair once, twice, three times. The guards outside start to shout and throw the door open but I'm waiting.

I use the butt of my rifle to knock the wind out of the first guard, his friend not expecting the first to crumple to the ground trips. They're unarmed, I can't shoot them…

"Ah ah ah, stay right there!" my rifle is trained on one of their hearts, the other pretty much subdued by his gasps for breath. I turn the laser sight on to emphasize my point, "Peeta, tell them to put their hands in the air!"

He does and one listens, the other reaches in his vest, like lightning lunging at me with a knife. Double tap, that's all it takes to stop his attack. The thunder of gunfire echoes through the cement bunker like basement, shouts of wounded and questions of my location joining the pitter patter of casings.

"I will let you live, if you let me and your prisoners go," Peeta echoes my words in Arabic and the man talks.

"He's amused because you're as much of a prisoner as we are," I cock my gun, I'm no prisoner… I'm the one with the gun. My back is to the door, a stupid mistake I realize I've made when an arm wraps around my neck cutting off my air supply. My captive reaching forward and tugging my rifle from my hands.

_No… No… No…_ I swing my legs with all the force I could muster and hope that the rifle, which is now in the air lands where my allies can get it. Through the blinding pain and lack of oxygen paw for my handgun shooting the thief in the chest before my head is jerked to the side. He'll break my neck. I raise my hands in surrender, dropping the magazine from the gun and then tossing the pistol.

I was trained to fight through strangulation fight to free myself, hot load of good that does when massive hands push your neck to the point of seeing stars.

He's speaking to Peeta, the only one in this room who speaks Arabic like his first language. My vision quickly becomes fuzzy just in time to see Peeta aiming my rifle in our direction.

_No… Peeta, it's jammed, don't… Don't risk it_.

I try to kick at his feet, his shins, elbow him, anything to free myself but his grip gets tighter. I'll suffocate before he has the balls to snap my neck.

There's gunfire, two shots both missing me and sinking into the man's shoulder, how is he such a good shot close range?

I'm dropped to the ground, my eyes meeting the glassy ones of the man I just killed when I feel my assailent scramble something scrapes across the ground, my pistol.

I laugh a little, the magazine kicked across the room by this point, he can't blow my brains out without any bullets.

But there's one more shot and a loud thump, I gasp and look up.

I'm back in Fallujah the moment Rue was shot, my eyes meeting Peeta as his hope turns into agonizing fear.

_No_…


	21. Freedom

**Sorry this took so long… I've been reading the Fifty Shades trilogy… Something new might be in the works as well, not fully Fifty Shades inspired because I can't write smut that hawt.**

**I've also decided to split this story into a few parts, I don't have a number because I don't know how many… This chapter is… muy grande because it ends part one, think of it as an epilogue but still a chapter?**

* * *

_November 2003_

"Peeta!" I scream, pulling my knife out and sinking it into the heart of his shooter. I haven't caught my breath as I scramble to the barricade, "No, you can't do this!" I hiss as blood seeps through his pants.

His face is ghost white, the shot so close to his femoral… but luck works in funny ways and the blood oozes instead of spurting, a sure sign that his artery isn't severed.

I palpate the leg, checking for breaks, "How is it?" he asks weakly as I feel the slight crunch and sharp end of his broken femur.

"Remember when my leg was stuck under that building?"

He nods weakly, hissing as I apply pressure, "It's worse than that…" no use in lying… I dig through my pack. Marines don't have medics, we're trained to do two things when someone's bleeding out… Apply a tourniquet which is impossible right now, his femur crunches under my touch far too high to be effective, and apply a substance called quikclot. A lovely clotting agent that heats up to a ridiculously uncomfortable and painful temperature, but it's the only thing we have to save his life and his leg.

I dig through my pack hastily pulling out a triangular bandage, "Bite down…" he listens and I shake out the bag, bringing the contents to the bottom, "Enobaria, get his good leg and hold it down. Jo, Annie, grab his arms," bored Marines are dangerous things… We tend to experiment with the things we have at our disposal. Quikclot being one of them, I've touched some, felt the heat of it… But he'll die without this.

"Ready?" Peeta nods, "Do not move this leg no matter what you do," I caution ripping the bag and pouring the sandy powder in his bleeding wound. It takes a minute before he begins struggling to get away.

I can smell it, reacting with his blood. I have to calm him, he's jerking round he'll push the bone through the skin, "Peeta!" I put my hands on the side of his face to try and distract him, "I love you!" I he stops and stares at me, the confession his immediate focus, "And I'm sorry… I'm sorry I couldn't have told you the morning you were captured. I was scared, but I'm not anymore… And you can't be either," I kiss his sweaty forehead.

"He's relaxing," Enobaria lets go of his leg, "I'll get something to splint his leg, we have to move upstairs, or out of this hidden corner…"

"Hidden?" I look over my shoulder at the woman, now pulling my knife out of a man's heart and cleaning it on her leg.

"I ran for it the first night, we're in a back corner a door that looks just like the wall blocking the view. This is a hidden bunker."

That's why we didn't get back-up, "But the gunfire is done… Guess we won…" Johanna grumbles.

"Don't count your Doe's before you gut 'em," I tell her taking the broken pieces of wood Enobaria hands to me and positioning them at the sides of Peeta's legs.

Peeta removes the bandage form his mouth, his teeth cutting through the cloth in places making it difficult for me to fasten the splint with it, "Katniss?" I look up as I tie the bandage, "That is the most _disgusting_ thing I think I've ever heard out of your mouth…" his voice is weak but I smile as his hand brushes my cheek, "and you have a terrible mouth."

I grin and snap my teeth like a shark, "If we lift you up can you stand on your good leg?" he nods, this is going to be difficult. Even though he's dropped a good few pounds Peeta's still solidly built but we have to get out of this bunker.

"I'm so tired…" he whispers as I loop my arms under his armpits, Enobaria and Johanna holding his hands.

This isn't good, "One… Two… Three," he doesn't scream in pain but he wants to, I know he does. I can feel his pain and his fear and it threatens to rip my heart out of my chest, but we get him to his feet.

"One of you get my rifle, one of you get my pistol and let's go…" I look at Annie still huddled in the corner, "Actually… Give me the handgun, Enobaria, take my rifle, Jo, get Annie…"

Moving Peeta is easier said than done, already weak from hunger the one leg out of commission doesn't help, as well as the body pile we've left, "Lead the way Lieutenant," I huff, "God Peeta you weigh a ton…" I shake him a little as we ease our way down the hall, "Keep your eyes open, if you fall asleep there is no way we can carry you…"

We reach the end of the hall, "Lieutenant… This is-" but she pulls on a rope, actually moving the wall. That's how they couldn't find me. The door was made of the drywall that lined the basement walls.

When we cross the threshold we're met by laser sites, "We come in peace!" Johanna hisses, "Damnit that's my eye!" she swats at the beam of light as if that will get it off her.

"Everdeen!"

"He's shot… His leg…" Thresh and Abernathy take Peeta's weight off my shoulders.

* * *

I refuse to let go of Peeta's hand once we're in the chopper, the only thing that breaks our grasp is medics rushing him and the others to the "hospital" and General Coin standing with her arms crossed behind her back waiting for me.

"Well, you did it, you've returned four POW's just in time for Thanksgiving," I look at the sun rising over the horizon, the sky turning a light purple, "Wash up and come to my office. I believe you have phone calls to make…"

We salute, "Ma'am yes, ma'am."

I hurry from her, just so she can't change her mind. The water runs black and green as the heavy paint runs off my face. I take inventory of my injuries. There's a perfect impression from the rifle stock under my left eye and a large deep bruise around my neck, but that's it…

Before heading to Coin's office I open Gale's door, his light's off but I know he's not sleeping, "Catnip…" he jumps up, "How is she where…"

"Medical ward, go get your woman…" I know Peeta isn't out of the clear, I know this injury is it for him. If he's not Honorably Discharged he'll be sent home to heal, they all will.

I knock on Coin's door but she only opens it to hand me the phone numbers.

It's 0520 here, eight ish hours behind for Peeta, nine for Enobaria and Johanna, and Ten for Annie.

"Hello, Jacob Enobaria?"

"_Yes?_" his voice is so sad, so hallow.

"It's Sergeant Everdeen… Overnight we led an operation to liberate your wife and the three other Marines held prisoner," I'm getting to the point but he doesn't let me finish.

"_What happened, is she ok? Can I speak to her?"_

"We're pleased to inform you that she's safe. She's being examined and will hopefully be able to call tomorrow."

"_Thank you…"_ he cries, "_God bless you_…"

"Thank you sir, have a wonderful evening…" I go to hang up the phone before I hear him shouting, "_Baby girl! Mommy's safe!" _I smile and hang up.

I dial Peeta's number from memory, the number feeling so natural with the familiar area code, "_Hello_?"

It's his father, I would know his voice anywhere. I traded him squirrels for bread, he had a soft spot for the things.

"Mister Mellark. My name is Sergeant Everdeen-"

"_Little Katniss?"_ he asks from memory.

"Y-yes, that's me," I wrap my finger around my braid, "Last night we lead an mission to liberate the four POW's, your son being one of them…"

"_Is he safe? Is he alive?"_

I bite my lip, "He was shot sir, in the leg. He's in the hospital now, but…"

"_He's safe… Thank you, thank you…"_

I bite my lip, "He was shot saving me…" sneaks out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Then Mister Mellark says the one thing I need to hear, the one thing that pulls me out of the terrible guilt spiral, "_That's his job."_

"Thank you, sir, and happy Thanksgiving."

He sniffles a little, I imagine the tall broad baker from my home town reduced to tears, a feat I never thought possible, "There's so much to be thankful for this year…"

I knock on Coin's door again, "Here you go general." She takes the papers from my hands, to return them to the proper files, or to get someone else to do it, "Thank you again, the mission you orchestrated went off without a hitch, we've rescued our POW's and didn't lose a single life," I tell her in the most sincere voice possible, if I let her think I'm telling everyone it was her plan all along maybe I could fly under her radar again. Maybe she'd look past my many acts of insubordination.

"Thank you, Sergeant Everdeen. I'll have you know it wasn't all my plan, a stubborn young Sergeant that is a lot like myself when I was her age reminded me that war isn't just a game of chess, it's a game of risks." I nod and smile.

"Good day, and happy thanksgiving, ma'am," she nods and closes her office door.

The base is buzzing about the mission, but I push myself into the medical ward. Annie is situated on a bed, Finnick's arms unable to let her go. Johanna and Gale are next to her, they're trying to feed both of them. Get _something_ in them.

"Everdeen… Come here," Odair starts I sit at the edge of Annie's bed.

"Where's Peeta? And Enobaria?" I look over the beds, Scotts and Danielson are getting stitches, but other than that there's no one other than nurses.

"Enobaria discharged herself about a half hour ago. Peeta's in surgery to repair his leg… It's bad Katniss," I nod, resting my hand on Annie's leg.

"Well, it's out of our hands now…" I whisper, "But what about you? I haven't heard a word out of you all evening."

I spoke too soon, she lunges for me, wrapping her frail arms around me, "For everyone…" she whispers, "From the three of us."

"There were four of you captured…" I stroke her hair, they still haven't been able to shower, it's greasy and wreaks of sweat.

"Annie's pregnant…" I look to Finnick, his usual cocky grin replaced with a proud one, "We were… suspect when she was captured but they tested her."

"Coin is sending me home in a few days once they're sure we're fine… I'll go back to North Carolina, work back in my shop again until I have to go on maternity leave," she wraps her arms around me, tears soaking my t-shirt, "Thank each and every one of them for me." I nod and pat her back.

"I will, I promise…" she goes to lie back down, fatigue getting the best of her, "You parents were happier to hear from me this time…" I tell them with a smile. The door to the ward opens and closes with a slam.

"Sergeant Everdeen…" the loud footsteps stop and I look up to see Major Abernathy, "General Coin would like me to present you with this," I stand up and walk to him, he's holding my chevron for Gunnery Sergeant. No, there's an extra rocker, and a diamond.

"Tell her to keep it, I haven't earned it yet. And if she'll allow it I'd like to be tested for gunny."

His old eyes smile, "You're Abraham's kid alright… Which is why I've scheduled it for tomorrow, at 0800," I smile and nod.

"Thank you, Major…"

"Actually, you'll find it's Lieutenant Colonel, sweetheart, please address me as such," I don't care about professionalism, I throw my arms around him.

He stiffens but eases into the hug, "Thank you… Between your pushing me and you pushing her… we did it, we got them home… You can go back to see your baby, your wife, your daughters."

"And what about you?"

I look over the happy couples and the emotions I've been pushing away for the last twenty four hours, the emotions I should have felt the second my boyfriend was shot and bleeding out but my mind pushed away so we could complete our objective.

"Everdeen?" his voice is softer as he places his hand on my cheek with a father's touch.

I swat his hand away, and turn on my heels as a nurse approaches, "Sergeant Everdeen, Sergeant Mellark is out of surgery and was asking for you. Says you're his next of kin."

_Next of kin… Next of kin? _They only need those if… I push past the nurse heading for the door she just entered in, "Peeta!" I called.

"Sergeant Everdeen!" a hand pulls me and shoves me into the wall, "You can't go bursting into doors especially in his fragile state!" the nurse hisses.

"Sorry… I just. Wait, he was asking for me?"

She looks at me glumly, "The anesthetist can't explain it, says it's a one in a million shot… He woke up as we were pacing his leg in traction," my heart clenches. Poor… poor Peeta, "He didn't scream… Only asked if you were safe."

* * *

I cautiously open the door to his room, he's not able to recover with the general population needing what looks like a pulley system to keep him from moving his leg… or to stretch it out. She said he was in traction, "You should be sleeping Sergeant Mellark," all business.

"As should you, ma'am," he grunts trying to sit up, but the traction holds him in a half seated position.

I pull the chair in the corner next to his bed and without asking, or even hinting at my actions run my fingers along his hairline, traveling down the side of his cheek and his strong jaw, "You're real…"

He grabs my hand with cobra like reflexes and kisses my knuckles, "What were you thinking, running off alone?"

"I didn't…" I lean forward and rest my head on his chest, he flinches a little, "I'm sorry!" I jerk up, "Did I hurt you?"

He smiles, "No, I… I'm just a little jumpy is all, come back down," I nod and nuzzles into his chest as his hand, in a powder blue brace strokes my hair, "You should have someone look at this…" his thumb strokes my bruise, it hurts, but I missed his touch so much…

"It's fine, it'll fade," my fingers trace the bruise on my neck, "As will this…"

We sit, well, he half sits and I have lay studying each other. I have so many questions, but none I want to force on him, there's a pale scar under his eye that's new, cuts litter his arms…

_What did they do to him?_

"You're shaking…" I look up, small tremors take his hands which he hides from me but I take his arm and examine his good hand, the one not in a splint.

"It's the anesthesia," a nurse sets down a tray, "It has this effect on some people, only they're _usually _sleep through this," she messes with his IV, checks his eyes and nods, "Are you hungry, Sergeant Mellark?"

"Starved," he yawns.

"I left some food on the table, eat at your leisure," and she leaves us.

I go for the bowl, the same stew I had before leaving, "Here…" I scrape the bottom of the spoon on the bowl and offer the spoon.

"Katniss, you don't have to feed me…"

"Why?" I cock my head a little to the side, "You feed me once… Plus," I shove the spoon in his mouth, "With your shaking hands, you'll make a mess."

"You'll make a great mom someday…" he finally tells me, I set the now empty bowl down and push it to the side.

"I'm not having kids…" I whisper looking away. How could I tell this to the man I loved, that I never intend on having a family, that I just want to throw myself into work until I retire so I never have to worry about going through what my mother did or more importantly putting him through that, "I'm not the domestic type…"

He shifts and a dopy grin spreads across his face, "Someday I'm going to make you my wife Sergeant Everdeen," his eyes are glassy, clearly still under the effects of whatever drugs they pumped him full of.

"Sergeant Mellark, I believe you're proposing to me. Though I only take marriage proposals from sober men," I smirk, "In fine suits with candles and flowers and romance."

"I'll take note babe…" he shifts uncomfortably.

We sit in a strange silence neither of us wanting to be the first to probe the awkward air, "Sergeant Everdeen?" I look over my shoulder, I've never been so happy to see General Coin, "I thought I'd find you here, I need you in my office… Now."

I shoot one last look at my boyfriend, awkwardness aside, I don't want to leave him for a second, "Yes ma'am."

She leaves and I sneak a chaste kiss, "Sleep, that's an order," I motion to my eyes and to him to tell him that I'm watching before hurrying behind the General.

* * *

_November 2003_

"Peeta proposed…" I squint up staring at the sun, "Well, kind of. He was really spacy from the pain killers and post-surgery," I wipe the sweat from my brow watching the plane carrying Major… pardon, Lieutenant Colonel Abernathy, Johanna, Annie and Enobaria.

"So naturally you tucked your tail between your legs and ran away?"

"I called his bluff, kind of… Then the General came to call the debriefing meeting…" I took my hat off again to wipe the sweat from my brow.

"You're going back home to move Peeta down to Lejeune right?" Gale asks shifting his rifle from one arm to another, I should be sleeping now, but I had to see my friends off.

I cock an eyebrow, "Yeah, why?"

He lowered his mirrored aviators, "Well, I got ahold of Waterfall, finally, he agreed to meet with you, I need to get that ring from him."

My jaw hit the dusty Iraq ground, "I can't! Gale!" I hiss, "Waterfall and my grandfather are like brothers, you _know_ how that situation is going…"

"Catnip!" he whines, "Your grandfather won't even be near there, he'll probably be at some lab or some shit…"

I sigh and sit on the ground, looking up at him, "So it's true? They're all cooking again?" I throw a rock, "And here I thought they went straight…"

"Please, so long as Cray looks the other way the Hawthorne's and Everdeen's will be supplying upstate Pennsylvania with crank…" he yawns and joins me on the ground, "But apparently they've forgiven your turning your back on them and moving Lillian and Prim away from their blood."

I'm in a tunnel made by my anger, "Lot of fucking nerve they have!" I hiss.

"Katniss… It was years ago, and you won't even be near the Seam, you'll be in town with your _townie_ fiancé."

"I didn't say yes," I remind him, "I'm not getting married Gale…"

"You should," I gawk at him, here I thought he understood!

"Don't look at me like that Catnip, after... _everything_ you didn't go and hide, you fought. Hard. You're not your mother, your every bit a female version of Abraham Everdeen."

I stand up, "Gale, I've swayed for a lot of things, but this is the _one_ thing I'm holding true. I'm willing to open up physically, but I mean come on, it took him getting captured for me to admit I loved him."

"Please, we didn't know he was taken when we were in that hole!" he argues.

"Gale! To his face!" I put my sunglasses on, "He should be out of surgery now. I'm going back. Kay?"

"Yeah, yeah…" he looks up at the disappearing plane holding his girlfriend and maybe future wife.

* * *

_Christmas 2003_

"Just open it, it's from me," I tell my sister through the webcam, it's Christmas morning, the first Christmas I've ever not been home.

She pulled at the red silk strap of the long box, I told my mom to jazz it up, she didn't disappoint.

She shakes the box, "Is it jewelry?" they had settled into their new home in North Carolina, everything was ready for Peeta and I to arrive in the spring. Though he was leaving after the new year and I not until late February.

"Something more precious."

She opens the necklace box there's a single piece of paper, "February 23, 2004… What is that?"

"It's the day I return to the states," there's a few second delay on the feed but I can see her eyes well up.

"Oh Katniss!" I see my mother in the background, smiling, "Wait until we get you from-"

"I'll be driving home from Pennsylvania, Peeta's moving in remember?" she pouts, "I have some business to attend to in Wilkes-Barre as well. I won't be home until the end of March."

She nods, teary, "But I'll know you're safe," I nod, not willing to tell her that now I was a Gunnery Sergeant I was slightly more logistical than before spending most of my time with patrol plans and weaponry. I had only seen Baghdad four more times and each one resulted in the loss of life… But she didn't need to hear about that.

"Of course, and guess what?"

She leans into the camera, hanging on my words, "You're getting married?" she asks, excidedly.

I roll my eyes, "No Primrose, we're getting a dog."

I pull the picture I had stolen from Peeta to show Prim, "Her name is Phoenix," I hold the picture of the rusty brown boxer with the dopy dog eyes to the camera, "And I'll feed her double if she puts Buttercup in his place."

She gasps, pulling the ever watchful cat to her lap, "Katniss you wouldn't!"

I roll my eyes and look at the picture, the dog was cute, and Peeta assured me that she was good with his mother's cat… That's good enough for me.

"Oh my sweet little duck, you know I would!" I stand up and start shrugging on my jacket, it was cold, well… Cool this evening. Peeta and I concluded that we wouldn't exchange gifts mostly because I refused to accept anything since denying his proposal, which he vaguely remembered and was laughing about.

"You're going?" she asks her voice unable to hide her sorrow.

"I have to work little duck…" a fair amount of people have the night off and I had one of my last patrols with Thresh who was leaving the same day as Peeta.

"But it's Christmas…" she whines attached to her beliefs that Christmas was the one day of the year where everyone puts down their guns and hugs…

Or the day we lost three more in the city.

Everyone was a little more upbeat as I walked to the Armory, probably for New Years, "Happy Christmas!" a British soldier saluted.

"Merry Christmas sir," I grinned taking a detour to the hospital where the love of my life was currently teaching himself how to speak Mandarin.

* * *

_New Years_

Everyone who wasn't currently on watch was in the Dining Hall, cameras placed strategically to feed back to the states our celebration, there were two combat journalists out and about taking interviews and getting people to say how much they loved and missed their family.

"Here," a grainy ultrasound picture was pushed across the table, "There's my son!"

"Or daughter," Peeta reminded him, finally able to leave the hospital in a wheelchair. He had three more surgeries and battled an nasty infection that almost lead to them cutting the leg off until they could put pins in screws in to hold his femur together.

Finnick looked panicked, "Daughter? I can't handle one of those! They get in trouble, bring home men!"

I rolled my eyes and picked at my food, my second dinner but I was starving, "Please, men are intimidated by a military dad, and a military mom? Any man that possible girl will bring home will toe a narrow line… Inside your house."

He looked relieved then panicked again, understanding what I meant, "Everdeen!" I leaned into Peeta and laughed, "Wait until you two have kids! I'm going to cause you all kinds of panic! I'll turn your black hair grey little miss!"

I rolled my eyes, not hashing up this argument again, "What time is it babe?" Peeta asks putting his hand on my knee to pull me out of my scowling match with Odair.

"2357, last three minutes of 2003," I hold up my glass, "Cheers, to a better year than this one!" we clink our plastic glasses and I down my water. Though we were all sober, alcohol being forbidden during active duty (which we were on twenty four seven) the hall was getting rowdier. Soldiers and Marines who earlier in the day had a pissing match in the firing range which I was told to stay out of by a Soldier, and then on the basketball court were getting along. There was a sense of urgency in the brotherhood between the Armed Forces this season, we were really all that we had this far away from our family.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" Peeta laced his fingers with mine as the room counted down.

"Three! Two! One!" I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, my hands finding his now shaggy blonde curls as his own found the back of my neck, pulling me close. His lips ignited a fire deep within my soul, it was a feeling I never wanted to forget, never wanted to stop feeling. I never wanted to let this man out of my sight or spend a day without him, though soon we'd be spending two long months away from each other.

I knew what I had to do, something I never thought I could, "Peeta?" I asked after the kiss broke.

He pulled away, smiling, "I love you, Katniss Everdeen…"

I cleared my throat, "Remember the question you asked me in the hospital? Well… The statement…" he eyed me cautiously as squeezed his hand tightly, "Well… We should do it," oh shit, where is my mouth going, "We _should_ get married. I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the rest of my life with."

He smirked, "Sergeant Everdeen, I believe you're proposing."

I blushed, my eyes darting to Major Odair who just sat with his arms crossed, the room had an uneasy hush about it.

_People are watching Peeta, please don't make a scene_.

"I might be…" I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

He strokes his bottom lip, extending my pain and anxiety, a camera had moved close to us, surely this was going to be taped. _Oh shit, oh shit… Come on Peeta._

"That's my job you know, and can't get down on one knee," he motions to his leg, the cast should be off in a few weeks, then he has months of physical therapy which will conclude just before I fly home. He takes my hand once more, "Katniss Everdeen, I've known you for years, but haven't been close to you for very long. I'd give my life to save yours and know you'll do the same… Love you with all my heart and as long as it beats this will always be true," I bite my lip, blushing, "You deserve flowers and candles and fancy dress for your proposal, someday I'll make that up to you, but for now… Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

My breath catches in my throat, I shouldn't be this surprised but it's his words… His beautiful words that warm me deep within my core, the room has silenced, well, most of it, waiting on edge for my answer, "Yes!" I throw my arms around him, "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

The hoots and cheers and congratulations threaten to deafen me.

* * *

_February 23, 2004_

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm a Gunnery Sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. I've been shot, had a building fall on me in an attempt to kill me, and almost lost my job which is my life, because sometimes you just have to speak your mind. I'm the daughter of Lieutenant Abraham Everdeen who lost his life fighting for freedom, which is something I've dedicated my life to. I've spent the last nine months in Iraq away from my mother and sister but there found the beginnings of my new family… With my future husband Peeta Mellark, who spent an agonizing month as a Prisoner of War and will always have the scars, physical and mental, to show for it. He has night terrors regularly which I had to find out about from his father. His mother isn't too happy about our engagement having never met me and knowing my hell raising family. And now I'm rambling in my head, probably to distract me from our final decent into the Philadelphia, where my fiancé awaits._


	22. Our Scars

**Wheee, the story is never over! I'm debating posting my newest story… I have forty pages typed, BUT… I'm a procrastinator.**

* * *

_Part Two: Courage_

_**Courage: Simply stated, courage is honor in action - and more. Courage is moral strength, the will to heed the inner voice of conscience, the will to do what is right regardless of the conduct of others. It is mental discipline, an adherence to a higher standard. Courage means willingness to take a stand for what is right in spite of adverse consequences. This courage, throughout the history of the Corps, has sustained Marines during the chaos, perils, and hardships of combat. And each day, it enables each Marine to look in the mirror - and smile.**_

* * *

_Summary: Now out of Iraq, Katniss and Peeta struggle to adjust to life outside of a combat zone. With no immediate threat to their safety the pair finds themselves in an almost tedious routine. Now the question arises, can a relationship forged in war survive their "peace"?_

000

_February 23, 2004_

"As we make our final decent into Philadelphia we ask that you please stow all portable electronic devices and return your seat backs and tray tables to their upright and locked positions."

Before today I had only ever been on a plane for work, but today that all changes…

My Fiancé, Sergeant Peeta Mellark waits for me in that drab grey airport. I could see him again, hear his voice, feel his touch. I was beyond giddy.

Prim was upset that I wasn't coming straight to North Carolina to be with her and our mother but I had to get to know my future in-law's.

In-law… I shuddered reminding that I'd have to see my mother's at some point since my dad's family and Gale's were so close together. We were practically kin and I had been essentially disowned when I moved my family to Washington DC.

Apparently letting two children and a sickly woman starve was ok, but moving blood to another part of the country was downright criminal.

"And we'd like to extend a thank you to our men and women in uniform, fifty of which are with us today coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan," the flight attendant applauds and the cabin joins. I hate this treatment… but my only winter clothes were camo which would fit in in Wilkes-Barre, not so much on a plane. The woman next to me, a stout grey woman with a southern accent pats my thigh.

"Good for you," she tells me. I thank her, though confused by her words.

I close my eyes and try to push my mind everywhere but here as the plane jostles and finally meets the ground, throwing my seatbelt off the second we begin to taxi to the gate.

I'm one of the first off, anxious to see him.

_Peeta…_

I turned on my cellphone, no missed calls but one text.

_I'll be at baggage claim… Can't wait to see you._

I grin rushing through the airport, my pack beating against my back. I didn't bother cleaning my boots before leaving Iraq, all the walking I did beat off the months of dust but I couldn't get rid of the blood, mine, Peeta's, the scum that held him captive.

According to Peeta and his father (who I had become very close to) he was doing well physically and mentally. He was no longer in a cast and could walk around without a cane. I was still suspicious.

I'd be in Pennsylvania until the end of March or early April, whenever Peeta had to report to Lejeune… I had until June. At some point we'd have to get married, well, not have to, but the marriage benefits in the military were nice.

I took full advantage of the moving sidewalk, letting it increase my hurried pace before rushing down the stairs, taking one glance at the sign welcoming me to Philadelphia with Mayor Street's smiling face on it.

_Baggage claim, baggage claim…_

There were Welcome Home signs held by waiting parents, wives, husbands, children, friends… But I passed right through them.

"Peeta…" I breathed finally seeing him, I broke into a run, "Peeta!" I cried throwing myself into his arms, my fingers finding the warm fabric of his shirt.

He took my head in his hands and pressed his lips to mine, every emotion we had felt during our time apart was poured into this one kiss, this one hungry, needy, loving kiss.

"I love you…" I breathe when we finally surface for air.

"I love you too…" he pulls me to his chest, his strong broad chest soaking up my tears.

He strokes my back, "I know baby, I know…" his voice is broken, tears falling into my scalp.

000

"So, we're staying with my brother," I nod, "Because my mom won't let Phoenix in her house and I've spent far too long away from that dog."

I grin, "I can't wait to see the cat, Gale finally got him out of quarantine, and up on his shots. He's bringing him to my mom's place either tonight or tomorrow."

Peeta's hand reaches across the expansive front seat of his truck, thumb stroking my knee, "But you should nap, it's what," I look at my watch still set on Baghdad time.

"2300… Ish," I yawn, "But I just got back, and I missed you… I'll sleep later," another yawn and I begin untying my boots preparing for the two hour ride up the mountains, "Plus if I keep myself awake I can get rid of this jet lag faster…" I unbuckle my seatbelt and move to the center of the long seat, no center console in this truck, "How's your leg?"

I fasten the waist belt for the front center seat and pull it tight before resting my head on his shoulder, "Hurts some times when it snows or rains, or when my fiancée near tackles me," I rub the inside of his thigh as he speaks, watching the dreary grey of Philadelphia in the winter give way to the bucolic suburbs protected from view by the off white stone walls of the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

About an hour after the suburbs give way to farm land you reach a stretch of mountains covered in rich dense forest filled with game. The only changes in the mountain faces, only places where trees have been removed and the coal rich rock has been disrupted is sparse quarry's and towns nestled in valleys with only tin roves and church steeples visible from the turnpike.

"Can we visit the Seam?" I ask, picking dirt from under my nail idly, "I want to see what I left behind…"

Peeta tilts his head a little, kissing my cheek, "Anything for you…"

000

"Why… Why didn't you tell me?" my dusty boots crunched the icy snow leading to the charred remnants of my childhood home.

Peeta scratched at the back of his head, limping to where I was nearly running, "I didn't know it was yours… It happened like two years ago?"

I pull my gloves on my hands, not meant for keeping cold out they serve only to protect me from nails and splinters, "What caused it? A lab?"

He shrugged, not understanding the importance of this as I pushed the charred front door open.

"Katniss, it could collapse on you!" Peeta cautions, not following me, he can see my every move through the frame of the house. The upstairs, where our bedrooms were once was gone, the only thing standing the staircase, but more importantly a thin piece of wood with marks at varying heights labeled Katniss and Primrose with our ages and the dates.

I grip the top which ends just at my waist and with my foot split the plywood, "What do you think you're doing!" a woman scolds, snow crunching as she approaches.

The classic Everdeen greeting, aversion, anger and a double barrel Winchester, "I'm taking what's mine…" I snap dusting off the piece, "You better put that down ma'am," I tip my hips forward showing my handgun in my waist holster.

The shotgun is aimed at my heart, "Aunt Rooba, come on, even for you this is a little dramatic," my hand is on my handgun, ready to snap it out. I back out, never taking my eyes of my father's sister. I sound out the floor with my foot, holding onto the piece of my past and well, my piece.

"Katniss…" Peeta cautions as I bump into his chest, his hands hold onto my arms.

"Where'd you get that girl?" she snaps, not recognizing me, maybe it would be for the best if only Gale's grandfather knew I was here. She rounds the house, no longer aiming for me, instead she points to the ground with the barrel. Her arthritic hands grab my name patch, "You steal this?" she snaps and I jerk away.

"No, I earned this, with sweat and blood," smooth out my jacket, the bitter wind biting through me.

Her face softens, "How is that… Primrose?" she puts her cold hand on my cheek.

I jerk away again, "No Auntie, I'm Katniss…" her face hardens.

"You shouldn't have come back girl, there is nothing for you here. We stopped being blood when you turned your back on your roots."

When I moved mom and Prim to DC to keep them away from the family and all of it's fun little issues. Gale had done the same only the Hawthorne's were more forgiving, "No, Rooba, we stopped being blood the night I came to your door skin and bones looking for something to give my sick mother and sister and you told me I would get nowhere begging," I take Peeta's hand, "Come on, let's go, there's nothing here. Just a stubborn old Hinny and my daddy's gun."

I turned my back on her as I did the night we left, sniffing the air as a cat weaves through my legs…

"Burning plastic and cat piss…" I grumble, "You should tell Jessop Hawthorne he's going to blow another house," I shout not caring who hears, all across the Seam they know what's going on, "Or Aunt Ripper," I tell her getting into the truck holding tightly onto the piece of my history and Prim's.

"She's just kind of staring…" Peeta smirks as the engine roars to life, "But you did basically call her an old ass... Or a mutt ass…" I sink down in my chair.

"I think I'm ready for that nap…"

000

I wouldn't meet my future mother and father-in-law until tomorrow evening, "How do I look?" I ask quietly, finally nervous that soon I would be meeting my future brothers.

Peeta's hand strokes my cheek before he leans into kiss me, "Stunning, as always…" he murmurs before barking fills the bitter air, "That's Phoenix…" he opens the door and hops out, a flash of rusty colored fur leaping into his arms, "Aw, baby, you're shaking!" he coo's bouncing the squirming creature who clearly regrets the decision to jump into Peeta's arms.

"She thought you were gone again, spent the last five hours sobbing in the corner," I grab my bag and rifle case from the back of the car, "Big baby," out of the house, sans shoes strode who I could only assume was Peeta's brother, "So this is my future sister-in-law," I shrug my bag higher on my shoulder, "Your picture did not do you justice," I cock an eyebrow at Peeta who's still cradling the Boxer.

"Picture?" his brother goes for my rifle case but instead I hand him by bag, "There's just fatigues in there, I think…" he looks at me confused, "Erm… What I'm wearing, just regular camo no Kevlar, no knee pads."

"Ahhh, I'm Andrew, welcome to Nanticoke, but if its easier to remember, Wilkes-Barre" he holds out his free hand.

"Katniss Everdeen, and it's more like welcome back, I grew up on George Street, you know… Over the bridge, and where the houses give way to hovels."

His grip on my hand tightens, "Ah…" he nods knowingly, "Mom's going to love her Peeta," he's since set the dog down who stares me down apprehensively, and has my other two bags over his shoulders.

"I think I should worry about winning the dog over first," I joke following them, "Cray still sheriff?" I ask setting my case down in the room Peeta and I would be sharing, it was no plush king bed at the St. Regis, but it was big enough for two, and apparently Phoenix who immediately jumps on the bed and rolls on her back.

Nervously I let the dog sniff my hand, "No, now we have Sheriff Thread. Who, no offence, is finally going after the meth cookers," I shrug and go for the dog's stomach, her leg almost immediately kicking at an invisible target.

"Ain't no skin off my back Andrew. My dad kept out of that, and I kept my family out of it," the dog whirls around onto her legs then assaults my face with her wet tongue, "Oh god, I probably taste like desert," I pet at her face as the men laugh at the display of affection. Guess I won over the dog.

"Well, I'm going to leave you two to unpack, the boxes her mom sent are in the corner. Come Nix," he snaps his fingers and the dog runs out the door leaving Peeta and I alone finally.

"Nap?" he asks as I unbutton my jacket and throw on the armchair situated in the corner, next goes my boots and finally my pants so I'm standing there in boy shorts and a green t-shirt.

The truth of the matter is I've never wanted sex more in my life, only my body would rather curl up in bed for the next day or so trying to figure out when it's appropriate to sleep, "Are you coming with me?"

He seems nervous as I climb into bed, "You ok hun?"

I only get a nod before he goes for his pants, "Sorry, it's just… My leg…" when he sits on the edge of the bed I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his neck.

"What about it?" I ask going for hit button and zipper, he doesn't stop me. On one leg he lifts up and slides his pants down. A good portion of his left thigh is pink scar tissue, "Lean back," I whisper easing him down on the bed before I crawl around, sitting on my knees next to him, "Peeta, it's beautiful," I trace the long wide scar with my finger. He stiffens when I lean forward and kiss it, sitting up to study my movements, "Also…" I stretch out my legs over his, using his hand to trace the scar on my leg, "We're twins, see?"

He cracks a smile, pulling me to him, "I love you…" he whispers before positioning us at the top of the bed.

"And I love you, now, never be ashamed of that… You got it saving my life," I tip my head up catching his lips in a short but loving kiss, "My hero…" I whisper.

He just chuckles before our moment is interrupted by a whining at the door, "Please babe, can the dog sleep with us?"

I just shrug watching him limp to the door and as he flicks off the lights Phoenix jumps onto our bed, curling up neatly at the foot of our bed.

It was early, barely 2000 but I was exhausted and I figured Peeta was as well considering the dark circles under his eyes.

"We have so much space…" I whisper pressing my body to his for warmth, he throws his leg over mine and kisses my nose.

"You'll still punch me in my sleep babe…" I roll my eyes and turn around so we're spooning, "Sleep well… We have a big day tomorrow."

Tomorrow, day one not on a strict schedule.

* * *

**I've decided to name the three parts after the three core values of the Marine Corps: Honor, Courage, and Commitment. At the beginning of each part will be the definition as used in the Corps. **


	23. Wakeup Call

**Happy Memorial Day! I was told I was obligated to update today. So I tried so hard!**

_February 2004_

Four AM and I wake with a start. Peeta snores quietly in my ear and at some point Phoenix has moved to be I guess dessert spoon, laying with her back against my chest and my arms around her slim body.

Something tells me we've just found a bigger cock block than being in Iraq.

I smile and blow on the back of her head sending the poor dog in a panic. She flails wildly and falls from the bed with a thud, "Mmmm," Peeta cracks his eye open, "What time is it?"

"Four…" I grumble as Phoenix rests her head on the bed, pouting, "I think I'm going for a run…"

"Babe…" he pulls me to him but I don't roll over, "It's February, it's probably ten degrees out…"

The dog begins swatting with her paw, trying to get my attention, "Your dog wants to go out…" 'Out', how could I forget that was a dog's trigger word? Her ears perk up and she barks, "See?"

He groans and his arms relax, "Her leash is in the laundry room on the hook."

I roll over, his eyes are already closed and I'm positive he'll be back to sleep the second I leave, "I love you…" I murmur kissing his closed eyelids, his nose, and finally his lips.

He yawns loudly, "Love you too… be careful… Bears."

I pull on my camo from yesterday and slide my belt on feeding it through the loops before attaching my holster to my hip and clipping my knife to the other side, "When am I not careful?" Phoenix has become privy to my plan and her nails scratching on the floor along with the occasional yip only make me rush more and more.

"When you… the building, and the strangling…" he yawns, "When you take her into the woods she knows to come back when called but she's not much of a hunting dog."

I smile, this man knows me too well.

At first Phoenix seemed to regret getting out of bed so soon but the second I broke into a slow jog she was fine. Peeta had trained her well, she never got ahead or behind and never seemed to get distracted even by the early morning traffic.

"Easy…" I cautioned. The easiest way to get back to the Seam was a frequently used train trestle. If I remember correctly the first train comes through here at 445… I check my watch which I had managed to change to EST, "Four thirty, let's go girl," we only have to cross about five hundred feet, but half way through Phoenix gets skittish, the gaps and frozen river becoming the focus of her attention, "Come here girl…" I scoop her up in my arms positioning her so her dirty paw's drape over my shoulder, "I know baby girl… I wouldn't want to fall into this stretch of the Susquehanna either…"

She hesitates when I bend to set her down, testing the ground a little before looking at me as if she's asking 'what's the holdup'.

A thin layer of snow must have fallen over night because one hundred yards in the forest the only tracks come from Phoenix and I, "Shhh…" I attempt to hush her panting and her endless crunching of ice and snow, "Sit, girl."

She does so, cocking her head listening with her sharper ears to the early morning. I back her up to a sheer rock face and crouch next to her, watching the sky first turn a pale purple then bright pink.

She hears something in the distance but I don't trust to let her off her lead, instead I settle for pulling out my handgun, the only weapon I brought. Once I managed to figure out where the game was I'd go off without the dog and find my old stand or even make a run to Cabela's to get a new one since I'm sure the family tore mine down.

The wind blows at our faces trapping our scent in the mossy rocks, "Shhh…" I hear it now, the low drum of a ruffed grouse, or better known as a "muffler chicken".

"Where is it girl?" I haven't had grouse in years, she tilts her head to our left and I aim. The one true test of a good hunting dog is her reaction to a gunshot.

"There he is…" I pull the slide back, closing one eye aiming for center mass. I couldn't trust the sights to go for my usual hit, the head, "Easy…" I caution, holding tight onto Phoenix's collar. She jerks as the gun goes off but the grouse dies immediately, my shot a little high.

I unhook her leash and let go of her collar, "Fetch!" she bolts off and within seconds returns with the limp bird, "Drop…" she cocks her head, "Phoenix…" I caution and she releases, "There's hope for you yet…" I kiss between her eyes and she licks my face.

"Who's a good girl?" I ask scratching behind her ears, "You're no blood hound, but damn…"

I get four more birds on our way back all the while letting the dog walk on her own. She never goes out of eyesight and actually does a good job flushing birds from the brush. It's a game to her, as it should be for all hunting dogs. Run into the bush, startle the birds, get to fetch a warm feathery toy… which I take away and shove in my pockets.

No one's in the kitchen when I get home and I find a trash bag and cutting board before turning on the TV to catch. Phoenix, exhausted from our hunt, curls up at my feet in front of the wood stove where a small fire heats the room.

The worst part about cleaning a bird is plucking the feathers. I'm quick to do away with the birds head before grabbing at the large feathers on the tails, "Mmm, morning… What is that?" I wipe the sweat from my brow and look up at a very confused blond man I didn't see last night.

"Well…" I scrape the knife against the grain of the feathers, cleaning the strays from the flesh, "They're our state bird, I grew up knowing 'em as muffler chickens, but they're more commonly known as a ruffed grouse…" he cringes as I go to scrape another, "I'm Katniss, by the way…" I smile as Phoenix paw's at a dropped bit of down.

"I'd shake your hand but…" he shudders, sitting next to me as a well-dressed man warns us of a coming blizzard, "I'm Ryan… the oldest."

I nod and slit the birds along their abdomen, digging my fingers in to scoop out what ever guts I can at first, "You seem to know what you're doing…" I wipe my forehead again.

"I've done this a few times before…" I pick up the kills by their legs, the dog following be, hoping that I drop one so she could eat it. The water takes a few seconds to get to the tap, the pipes rattling before cool water rinses the birds clean, "Do you have a ziplock?" I ask setting them down on paper towels.

He gets up and begins opening drawers, clearly confused in the kitchen before finally pulling out a box of freezer bags, "These right?"

I nod, "Could you open one up?" I look at the plump birds again, "Actually… two," I press the air from the bags and throw them in the freezer.

"So…" he watches me clean up my mess from the kitchen table, his index finger pulling down the side of the bag to examine the guts, "You and my brother?"

I nod, smiling at the thought of the warm bed upstairs with my sleeping fiancé, "I think I'll go wake him up…"

Ryan nods, "Don't be too loud," I blush hurrying from the kitchen after disposing of the gut bag and washing my hands.

Peeta snores quietly once more as I strip from my cold clothing. I'm down to my black underwear as I crawl up the bed, my fingers tracing along his form before I position myself straddling his hips.

I inch the blankets down slowly, torturously so until most of his chest is uncovered, "Mmm…" he groans as I kiss right above his heart.

"Good morning…" I smile as his arms wrap around me.

He pulls me down to his chest, "You're freezing…"

"Then warm me up…" I rub my hips a little at his hardening length.

"With pleasure…" I catch his lips as he lifts my sports bra over my head, pulling away only to free myself from the tight black spandex.

There is no foreplay, both of us craving the touch of another, "Mmmm…" I groan, feeling the familiar sensation of him stretching and filling me. Our fingers lace together as slowly I move up and down using his bent arms for support.

"I missed this…" he moans before letting go and placing his hands on my waist. His thumbs massaging the now heated flesh beneath them.

"I love you…" I moan as every single one of my movements puts pressure on my sweet spot.

Like a tidal wave, my orgasm washes over me, making me forget the two others in the house as I let out a moan from deep within my core.

I collapse onto him as my mind tries to recover from the sensation it's been without for nearly five months, "I could do that every day for the rest of my life… and I still will be amazed how close I feel to you, and how lucky I am…" he whispers, moving my sweaty hair from my face.

Tears come to my eyes, the last time we made love was the night before his capture… and I was in such a rush.

"Hey…" he coo's the tips of his fingers tracing up my spine. His gentle touch turns my small tears to sobs. His strong hands find my shoulders and sit me up, "Why the tears?"

"The…"I take a deep breath, trying to hold myself together to choke my words out, his eyes are so gentle and kind. Bile rises to my throat as I think of him a prisoner, "The last time we were together as before…" I fall apart at the seams, the thought of him beaten, bruised and bleeding out too much for me. I let my body slump forward, "And I was too scared to tell you I loved you…" I punch the mattress before his arms squeeze me.

"I knew you loved me… The whole time I was…" he clears his throat, his voice cracking a little when he speaks next, "You're shit with words sometimes… You know that?"

And just like that he's said just the right thing, the perfect thin to bring a smile to my face, "Until I'm mad…"

"Until you're mad…" there's a knock on the door and Peeta pulls the quilt over us, "What?" he asks, his fingers tangled in my hair.

"Mom's going to be here in fifteen minutes. She done screaming yet?"

"Screw off Ry," Peeta snaps, clutching me protectively.

"Mmmm, oh Peeta!" he moans through the door in a high pitched voice. My tears are quickly replaced with a deep blush and panic…

The last time I saw Peeta's mother she nearly broke my face.

"You're just jealous!"

I took five minutes to scrub myself clean thankful that it was winter and my fiancé didn't mind if my legs and other regions grew a little fur.

In the movies when the significant other meets his or her future mother-in-law the partner usually says, "She'll love you."

The whole house held its breath, they were townies and I was Seam… But was that still the case? I've lived in DC for the last four years, and more importantly Peeta and I were both Marines, titles we weren't born into but earned.

"Here we go…" Andrew grumbled with a mouthful of toast as I braided my damp hair and Peeta put another log in the wood stove.

Would she recognize me? Could I tell her that I was just as ashamed of my family as any sane human being was?

The car outside cut is engine and I heard the door closed just as my cellphone began ringing.

_Mom_

"Shit…" I was ten hours from Jacksonville. I hurry from the table, "Hello?" I ask closing the kitchen door.

"_Good morning daughter of mine…" _ I know that voice.

"What did you hear?"

"_It was so nice hearing that you pulled a gun on Rooba…"_

"Momma, I didn't 'pull a gun' on her. She pointed daddy's Winchester at me and I told her to stand down…"

She sighs, _"They want to see you… I explained things better to them and they're trying… But Katniss, you know how the family is."_

I squeeze my eyes shut, "The family is the only thing you need, without us there is no you. Without you there will never be an us again. You must protect the family's secrets with your life on pain of disownment…" I groan, "How did they ever learn that word?"

My mother laughs, "_Well, they're going to have a family meeting… I think this afternoon. Everyone's coming, except Prim and I naturally. Call Grandma Sae, she's your foot back in the door…"_

I suck in air, "Mom, my future mother-in-law is in the other room, the last thing I need to worry about is a bunch of white trash who turned their backs on us when daddy-" my words caught in my throat.

"_Katniss… Like it or not they're your family… And life hasn't always been easy for any of them," _I nod, flicking the end of my braid, "_When you're older you'll understand that little feuds should just be brushed under the rug. Unfortunately their brains are so burned out they act like kids…" _I chuckle and brush the tears from my eyes, "_And don't you want them at your wedding?"_

Wedding, we never discussed our plans. I was fine just going to the justice of the peace and signing a certificate, "Let's not discuss this now, I'll call you later mom… And test me Sae's number."

"_Sure thing Katniss, see you in a few weeks…"_

"Yeah, I love you guys…" we say our goodbyes and I click my phone off, turning around to head back into the kitchen, "Um… Hi," I stammer after nearly bumping into Misses Mellark.

Her scrutinizing eyes are on me, "Hello," I extend my hand which she shakes cautiously, "It's… Pleasant to meet you face to face finally," I wince; the one time we've spoken I was telling her that her son was a POW.

I smile, and pull back my hand, watching her wipe hers off with a handkerchief, "A pleasure," I shove mine in my pockets, fiddling with my pocket knife.

She takes a deep breath, "I had always imagined my son would marry nice girl from home… not-" she pauses.

"Not a Marine Sniper from the Seam?"

Finishing the sentence was the wrong thing to do, "Not some meth cooking trash who is more concerned about running off into danger then starting a family and her future."

My jaw snaps shut, "Misses Mellark, I'm just as ashamed of my family as the rest of the town. Now, you've only just met me, don't you think it's a little early to judge me?" she bristles.

"I know you're listening, all three of you," Misses Mellark snaps before looking at me again, "Boys… When you and Peeta have children cross your fingers for girls…" she tells me as the boys file in.

I smile, unsure how long this peace between she and I will last, "I'll keep that in mind… Though you'll need to be patient, Peeta and I aren't even going to consider children until we're both ready, and probably out of the military," she didn't need to know that I was probably going to resign, actually, Peeta wasn't aware of this fact either.

She and I would definitely never be friends, that was clear when she asked me if there was anything I didn't eat because she was still planning tonight's dinner.

I smiled and pinched my tea bag, "I've lived off military food and MRE's for the last nine months, I'll eat anything."

She snorted into her tea, "Well, you should be thankful that you don't have to beg for food."

"Mother!" Peeta snapped, "That is way out of line!"

I set my mug down, "No, Peeta its fine…" I murmur running my fingers along the porcelain, "I did have to beg for food once…"

She puts her hand to her chest, "And it's not my fault her drug addicted family couldn't take care of them after her father up and left them."

My fist smashes the table, "Excuse me ma'am, but my father didn't leave us. He was tortured and killed…"

"Katniss…" Peeta's hand rests against my thigh, squeezing my knee to calm me down.

"Because he went back for an injured Marine, he gave his life. You can say whatever you want about me, but don't you ever speak ill of my father."

She bristles again, "I think I'm done here. We'll see you tonight," she goes to leave but Peeta stands.

"Katniss aren't going until you apologize for how you're behaving, mom. I'm marrying this woman, and she's the reason I'm here today. If it wasn't for her I'd be dead, or worse. If anything you should be thanking her, not throwing out insults about things that are out of her control and speaking about things you know _nothing_ about."

She balls her fist then releases it, "I'm sorry you feel that way… But please be logical Peeta…"


	24. American Honey

**Enjoy! There's like... no fluff here. ;-; I'm sorry!**

* * *

I realize very quickly I don't understand how to be a civilian. As everyone buzzes about the exchange between their mother and I, I welcome the small amount of stress.

This life is most definitely not for me, "Good girl…" I take the damp toy from her mouth and tell her to sit again, "Easy…" training a hunting dog is usually difficult, but Phoenix seems so driven to please me that she'll try anything. Even wait for her toy after it's been thrown across the yard.

I wind up and pitch the toy as hard as I can, pausing before clapping my hands to simulate the sound of gunfire.

"Get it girl!" she bolts.

She thunders back with the stuffed duck in her mouth, grinning like a fiend, "Damn…" the door to the house closes just as Phoenix releases, "I'm not sure I've ever seen her so happy…"

I crouch down and pet the dog's head, "Boxers aren't known for their usefulness in hunting, but I've seen a boxer be trained to take down a grown man… Why can't this one learn to play a little fetch?" I smile as Peeta hauls me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me.

"You've been out here for two hours, are you ok?"

To be honest I'm more ok than I've been in a while, I had Peeta, we were safe, and I had a certain level of stress to keep me from going crazy.

"I'm fine, yourself?" I throw the toy again and Phoenix waits for my command. I snap my fingers and she's off.

"I have my beautiful fiancée in my arms, my mother's being a colossal bitch, and we're expecting a blizzard. I'm pretty good."

"That's why all the animals are going crazy… I bet if I take my rifle out I could get a good sized deer. Though I'm no good at the whole butchering thing," I sigh, "That was my Aunt's specialty…"

I kick at some snow, "You're going to see them?"

I nod, "I should leave soon… You can come if you want? They're going to be your in-law's…" I grumble.

He buries his face in my loose hair, "You're so ashamed of them…"

I roll my eyes, "Can you blame me? I mean it's really only a few that that do… what they do, but all of them would rather die than let anyone harm the family."

"You guys sound like you're part of the mob," he jokes kissing my neck, "You're cold… Come inside."

I shake my head, "We have to go soon, do you mind if I drive? It's kind of hard to get to…"

"You should take my truck, we're going to head into town and see if we can get my mother to be reasonable. She wants to do dinner another time, seeing as the power's bound to go out…"

My wrist ached and I could smell the snow in the air, it was going to be one hell of a storm, "Who would have thought," I start cuddling into him some as Phoenix rolls around in the snow like a puppy, "That we'd be spending our time trying to make our families sane. And you can take the truck, I'll hike," I smile a little, "I miss the forest."

"How far is it?" I spin around in his arms so I'm facing him and catch his lips. They're chapped and cold but warm me to my core.

"Like a few miles, it's no big deal. I know these woods like the back of my hand, plus I'll be packing a lot of heat."

"You're not bringing your rifle," his brows have furrowed.

I stick out my tongue and head inside, if I was walking I'd need to leave now.

* * *

"Call me as soon as you get there," Peeta tells me, zipping up my coat as I adjust the dark band that covers my ears.

"I'm not sure if I'll get reception out there, you know how the mountains are. If you can't see a tower you don't have service."

He kisses my forehead, "Please leave before the storm hits, it shouldn't go until overnight," I adjust the strap across my chest, feeling right with its weight on my back.

"I will, I promise." I catch his lips and make my way through the door, "Good luck!" I call back.

"Play nice, Katniss!"

I have to wait for a freight train to pass the trestle and instead of heading straight for the forest I head up my old street and onto a pretty much unnamed road that was once paved but now the harsh winters and abuse by the trucks my family is so fond of the asphalt has turned into gravel. A lone car kicks up the gravel behind me and I don't bother looking back, there's only two reasons to come up this road. One, you're an Everdeen or Hawthorne going to either Grandma Sae's or Waterfall's. Two, you're a cop.

"Well, I'll be damned. If it ain't little Katniss Everdeen, all grown up," a familiar voice greets.

"Deputy Darius, here I thought they would have sent you packing for all the trouble you let Gale and I cause," he slows his car so he's walking my speed.

He chuckles, "Naw little lady, the new sheriff wants to, but now that you and he are gone things got quieter," yeah right… "Well, I have to get going. Sheriff wants me to close off the bridge up 401 make sure people don't come down this hill once the storm hits."

"Have fun sir," I nod.

"You too, and stay out of trouble, I know your other half isn't here, but I don't doubt you can raise some hell." I nod and he drives off just as I reach Grandma Sae's driveway.

"I can do this…" I whisper before pulling out my phone, one bar.

_Here._ I send Peeta before shoving it in my pocket and making the long trek up the drive.

My father's brother, I believe we called him Buck, nearly fell off the railing of the porch when I came up the drive, "Graceful…" I adjust the strap across my chest, "You sure you're my daddy's brother?"

He opens his mouth but the door swings open, "Come on in girl, just put the kettle on," my grandmother is the only one of my family who I've spoken to in the last four years, "And God damn, this ain't a pissing contest," I smile and bang off my boots before entering her home.

It's warm as I remember and has that grandma smell that's trapped in her floral couches, "They're all in the other room though Bristel opened up the Wild Turkey, so…"

I pull off my ear warmers and gloves, "I don't have long before this really turns into a pissing contest."

She nods and hugs me, "My baby girl… finally come home…"

I bite my lip, "Sae… I'm not a kid anymore. I'm twenty-two, I'm getting married."

"Kitty cat's getting married?" someone shouts from the other room, "We invited?"

"Nawh, she'll probably pack that family up to and keep 'em away."

_This was going to be harder than I thought._

"Trust me Jessop, you don't want anything to do with the family," I walk into the sitting room and steal the bottle from my cousin Bristel and take a healthy chug, "I'm marrying a townie." I smirk proud.

"Thieving bitch, gimme that!" she paw's for the bottle which is still at my lips, "That ain't water, and it sure as shit ain't cheap!"

I hand her it back my core now warm with a sweet fire, "I have to get back before the storm hits, can we get down to business?" I ask, my rifle stock on the ground, "And will Waterfall be showing up?"

"He'll be around…"

"Why'd you take Lillian and Prim from us? We're family Kat, family sticks together."

I wince, "My momma was too sick to be without me, and Prim was too young…"

"So? Lilly could have gone to her townie family they could have cared for her!"

I squeeze my eyes shut, I'm too young to deal with issues this deep, hatred's that run this deep in my blood's blood, "Momma was disowned for marrying daddy. No offence, but you guys have earned a pretty bad reputation in the town…" I mumble.

Jessop Hawthorne stands up, I think he's Gale's second cousin, "That's just those uptight bitches. What we do on our own land is our business, the family's business."

"Jessop, you sit down right this minute and let the lady talk. This is why we're here. The family stays together," I look up and see the thin greying man.

_Waterfall._ I wince, this man's hand was hard, coming down at the drop of a hat.

"Thanks, sir…" Jessop and I grumble. Though he's only about six years my senior Jessop looks like he's made of old leather.

"Now, girl, speak," I nod and take a deep breath.

"You all saw, after daddy died momma was barely living. After we got back from the funeral, which none of you attended I might add, she stopped talking, barely ate… She lost her job and didn't file for anything to help us. Which is why I asked for help though you all turned us away…" I look around the room, "Gimme that," I steel the Wild Turkey from Bristel again and take another swig, "I'm not going into detail, but we got some assistance, even though you were all pretty fit with letting Prim and momma starve."

"We were hurting too, that was right after the mine shut down…" I nod, I didn't know this, mom didn't say, and when I asked for food those many years ago they said nothing.

"But you all hunted, you could have spared something, we ate the pantry dry. Families protect each other, you just turned your backs on us. Prim was barely six…" the wind begins howling outside, shaking the small house.

"Storm's coming…"

"We don't have enough Turkey to get through a blizzard, not with Katniss chugging it all like we're hard to be around."

"You guys are impossible to be around, remember Prim's fifth birthday? Bristel, you and Jessop nearly lit the damned forest on fire," someone snorted and like that, tension was gone.

"I have to go… Peeta will be worried with the storm," I look out the window, a sheet of white coming down. The mountains tended to hide how fast a storm was moving, "Shit…" I move to the foyer and pull out my phone, dialing Peeta's number, "Pick up… Pick up…"

"Katniss, are you ok?"

"Peeta…" I breathe, relieved, "The storm's too bad for me to come home, I have to stay here…" the line crackles.

"Are you safe?" he asks, I hear the dog barking in the background.

"Well, my cousin's pretty keen on the bourbon, but…" I hear the sweet crooning of a guitar, "Rooba didn't show and I'm guessing Ripper's still in the slammer. So…"

"I can pick you up, you don't seem like you're ok with this…" the line crackles again.

"Peeta Mellark, I've survived an explosion, a building falling on me, being shot…" I pause, "Though lets only half count that… and your mother's wrath."

He chuckles, "Ok, but the second the storm quits, please, come home. I miss you…"

I blush and the lights quit, "Aw come on! Can't we get a good wire up here?" someone shouts.

"I miss you too, the power's just quit… I'm going to miss how you turn into a space heater the second I'm in bed with you…." I flick the end of my braid, "I love you…"

"Love you too, be safe."

I disconnect and head back into the dark room, candles are being lit and wood is being put on the fire, "This reminds me of the blizzard of ninety six. You remember that Sae?" Waterfall asks, guitar in hand.

"Of course, that was the year Vick Hawthorne fell through the ice… how is he Katniss?"

"Not walking on the lake any time soon. He's down in North Carolina with Gale and the rest of 'em."

I flop back down on the couch, "Looks like we'll be stuck up in here for a few days. Everyone get comfortable."

Waterfall plucks the strings on the guitar, "You still got your daddy's set of pipes?" he asks.

I shrug, "Haven't done much singing in the last few years, I was too busy training."

He shrugs, "Well… You remember Ol' Red?"

The song his hunting dog was named after, "How could I forget? But I'm not much for singing right now…"

He snorts, "City girls."

I roll my eyes, "Please, I'll always be a mountain girl Waterfall."

He looked skeptical, "You show me you haven't gone soft, and I'll give you the ring," I cock an eyebrow.

First I have to prove my worthiness to marry Peeta, now I have to show the family I'm not some city bitch. Awesome…

Snow falls through the night and most of the next day, large white flakes that give everything a peaceful look. I slept curled up on the couch after helping polish off a bottle of Turkey and another of Jack. Everyone reminisced about times I had missed as the walls we had put up to keep each other out fell, or at least got weaker. It's amazing what a few bottles of rich dark alcohol could do.

"So when's the wedding?" Sae asked cooking bacon on her wood stove. I look around the room, everyone waiting for my answer.

"Not sure? We haven't talked about it yet."

"You should do it here, we have the barn we could set it up all nice…" I smile a little.

"I'll have to talk to Peeta first, I think we were just going to go to the JP in North Carolina," I chomp on a piece of still warm bacon.

"Please, no grandbaby of mine is getting married at the Justice of the Peace…" I roll my eyes, "You call your momma, I still have the dress she wore."

"I could just wear my blues, please, Sae…"

She waves, "I'll get Primrose in a wedding dress someday easy. You… I'll die before I see you get married in anything but white…"

I roll my eyes and watch her drop an egg into the bacon fat, "Momma hasn't cooked eggs in bacon in years," Sae smiled proudly.

"Townies…" she grumbled, "But, now that you all have your coffee, and we've all had a night's rest, perhaps we should tell Katniss why we called this meeting? Jessop?"

"Since we got the new sheriff, shit's been, well… Downright cruel. He busted poor Ripper with barely an ounce on her, though he let her walk…" I nod digging into the eggs my grandmother juts put in front of me, "We're going clean, Katniss… Well, trying to."

I choked a bit on my eggs, "There ain't much money in it anymore and if we get locked up it'll be trouble for the family, and the kids…" I didn't believe them, surely they were lying!

"We're not perfect, but… When we saw you on the news last year, making something of yourself… We knew we had to…"

"I'll believe it when I see it, I was on George street and it smelled like a lab…" I knew they would never stop, addicts couldn't stop at the snap of a finger… but at least they're trying.

The snow quit around four, just before the sun began to set. Though I… Tolerated my family I knew I needed to get home to Peeta.

There was at least a foot of snow on the ground, walking would be impossible, "Anyone still have a working ATV?" I asked as we sat outside, most everyone enjoying their first smoke of the day.

"Yeah, leaving so soon?"

I nod, finally noticing a shotgun on the porch. The stock made of a rich walnut with _"Lilly and Abe March 21, 1982"_ carved into the wood. The gun I took my first buck down with, "I'm taking this…" I pull my gloves off and marvel at its beauty.

"As you should, you wanted to play with it at your parent's wedding, but… a ten month old is a little young to be playing with guns."


	25. The Fortress

**First, I'd like to thank my new beta, Chelzie, who is going to be taming my terrible grammar and tense issues. :)**

**Next! I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Sarahwj who called me amazeballs in the latest chapter of her story _Impasse (I kind of squealed when I read her AN mentioning me)_, which is an amazing look into Katniss and Peeta after the war trying to start a family. I love it, and you should take a look (after reading this chapter of course).**

**ONWARD! I still don't own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

The door was unlocked when I got home. With two rifles strapped to my back, I'm sure I looked a mess.

I banged off my shoes and crept up to the bedroom Peeta and I shared just as the wind picked up. "God dammit, Jessop, I told you to take the shortcut…" I grumble, opening the door and setting my baby and my victory token in the corner, safety on of course.

"Hey…" I whisper. Peeta is lying flat on his stomach on our bed, his eyes half open.

"You're home…" he whispers back. The dog, ever vigilantand snoring like a buzzsaw, is curled up next to him. "How'd it go?"

I sit on the edge of the bed, letting him curl up around me. "Better than I thought… they want to throw us a wedding…"

He chuckles and wraps his arms around my waist. "You're cold as ice…" he mumbles and pulls up the back of my shirt to kiss at the exposed skin.

"Then warm me up…" I stroke his cheek with my cold hand. He's sweating and breathing heavy, though he isn't warm. "Are you okay?" I ask while brushing the blonde curls from his forehead.

He shrugs, "Bad dream, but it's better now that you're here…"

"Aw, Phoenix wasn't enough?"

He snorts and the dog stretchesat the sound of her name, "She missed you…"

I lean down and kiss his cheek, "I missed both of you… but her more."

"Wha?" he gasps, shock crossing his face.

"Kidding…who else is going to keep me warm at night, or make me laugh…" He goes back to kissing the cold, exposed flesh of my lower back. I groan in response, each kiss radiating heat throughout my dirty body, "Or do _that_ to me…"

"What?" he asks innocently, "Phoenix gives good kisses," he says and licks my flesh.

"Peeta… I'm not even going to touch that…" I stand up and remove my heavy jacket and shirt, adding it to the pile of laundry. "How is your power on?"

"They like the town better…" he smirks, "We even have hot water…"

I cock an eyebrow as I undo the Velcro belt holding up my pants. "Well then…" I offer him my hand, "Shall we?"

The water from the shower beats down on our heads as we hold onto each other. "I never want to spend another night away from you…" I finally whisper, "It was strange, curled up on the couch next to my drunk cousin…"

He chuckles and moves so my hair gets wet, "Tell me about it, my brothers are still over at my parents' place."

"How'd that go?" I ask.

"Mom agreed to play nice. I told her that if she didn't, she wouldn't get to see our wedding or her grandchildren…" I pull back from him, my jaw slack. "When and if they come," he tacks on. "I know you're not even close to ready…" he says, running his fingers through my wet hair, "Plus you're young, and there are so many obstacles we need to overcome before we even consider it. Though someday, I would like to tuck in a little girl who's just like you…"

I blow a raspberry and bury my head in his chest, "Please, have you _met_ me? Why would you want a second person like me in your house?"

He goes to shampoo my hair as I run my fingers through the light hair on his chest, "Have you met yourself? You're the strongest person I've ever met…"

"You could throw me half way across the room if you wanted to. I've seen you throw a hundred pound bag of flour over your head like it was nothing," I tilt my head back to rinse.

"Katniss, strength comes in many forms," he murmurs. I let go of him just long enough to make sure there's no shampoo in my hair before I give him the same treatment, though I have to stand on my toes to do so. I stumble once or twice but his hands are there to keep me up, to protect me.

"They're going straight," I blurt out and Peeta looks at me, confused. "My family, I mean. They're… I don't believe them. I'll have to see it first. But if we choose to get married while we're up here, I won't be as afraid to bring Prim up…"

"That's amazing…" he pulls me to his chest and we shift again, "See? We both made good progress yesterday…"

I smile just as the lights cut out. "Shit…" he grumbles, "Here, hurry up before the water heater runs out."

"Hurry? Mister Mellark, I'm a pro at showering in under five minutes… though…" I pick up my leg and run my hands along it, "I would like to shave… oh well! Do you mind?"

I can tell he's rolling his eyes, "Do I ever?" Somehow he finds my lips and kisses me lightly.

"I love you, Peeta, you don't try and change me…"

"And I love you, because you could never be changed."

By the time we get out, Ryan and Andrew are back and arguing downstairs. Apparently they wanted to play XBOX, but that's impossible now. "Should we go down there?" I ask.

"We could always entertain ourselves…" he suggests, cocking an eyebrow.

I shake my head no. "There's no fireplace in the bedroom and it'll get really cold really fast. We should just go downstairs and suffer through it."

"Good battle plan, Sarge," he smirks. I drop my towel and receive a spanking in return.

"Hey!" I gasp and run away, but this gets the dog going. "You upset the baby!" I pull Phoenix into a hug but she's looking around and bobbing her head, wondering what the hell just happened. "It's ok… Momma's here…"

I steal a pair of Peeta's sweatpants and pull my USMC sweatshirt over my head before we head downstairs. My long hair was still damp, but there wasn't much I could do about it.

"Sit," Peeta instructs and pulls a chair in front of the fire. As I do, a towel is thrown over my head.

"Hey!" His hands start rubbing my scalp, towel drying my hair as best he could. "I can't have you getting sick…"

"Aww… ain't they cute?" one of boys asks as I hear a bottle cap hit the ground.

"We try," I say and stretch my legs to warm up my feet, wiggling my toes.

"So what was Jessop Hawthorne doing on this side of town?" Andrew asks.

I lift the towel off my head and fold it in my lap. "He gave me a ride home this morning. Does gossip still spread that fast?"

Ryan nods, chugging his beer, "Yeah, faster now that we have the internet actually."

"And the XBOX!" Andrew grumbles, "I had to kick your ass in CoD some more…" and flops down on the couch.

Peeta and I exchange a look, "Call of Duty… it's a war game," he explains.

I frown, "Hold on one second…" I hurry upstairs to get my baby, who should probably be at Lejeune waiting for me. "Do they have one of these?" I ask, holding it out for them to see.

"Holy crap, you brought _that_ into the house?"

My eyes narrow, "She's nice, barely kicks." I cover my hand with my sleeve and unscrew the barrel, "Though she is a dirty girl…" I frown a little at the threads covered in pale, fine dirt.

"What is it?"

"Her sniper rifle," Peeta explains. "She nearly bit someone's head off her first day in Iraq because they messed with her scope."

"Hey!" I aim away from them, "It was _really_ off."

I clean my rifle as the boys joke about their childhood. "Zombie apocalypse, who do you think would survive the longest?"

I raise my hand. "I can live off the land, I'm good at hiding. I've been trained how to cover my tracks and make myself invisible."

"Your overconfidence is your weakness," Andrew retorts.

Peeta smirks at his brother, "You've never seen her shoot." I stick my tongue out, proud of my fiancé for defending my very egotistical statement.

"Actually, Peeta is better in close quarters than I am. Peeta…" I cut myself off. _Could I talk about his rescue?_

"It's fine, Kat," he reassures me.

I nod and continue, "When we went to rescue Peeta, I was being strangled; he shot my assailant in the shoulder, missing me completely though he must have had next to no target."

I smile and rest my hand on his leg. But when I look up, instead of his soft face, I see the shocked, painful one from after he was shot. My hand tingles as I feel my knife blade push through the ribs of the man who shot him.

"_Katniss!_" I hear him shout as I'm suddenly jostled back to reality.

"Sorry… I went…" I swallow, "Somewhere else. I'm going to go put this away…" I hurry up the stairs back to our bedroom, trying to shake the images that are floating around in my head.

"Hey…" I jump when I hear Peeta behind me, "Are you okay?"

I sit down on the bed and the dam breaks, "I just… I saw…" I didn't need to say more, his arms were already finding their way around me.

We lay down, my face buried in his chest as we cried together, his arms the fortress from which I could draw my strength. "Babe, have you thought about being checked out?"

I looked up at him, wiping my nose with my sleeve, "For what?"

"For PTSD, they ran me through when I came back…"

"And?"

He shrugs, "I don't like my eyes covered, dark spaces, or the blankets over my face, but other than that I'm clear. You, on the other hand, just had a full-on flashback."

I shake my head, "I'm fine, Peeta… As long as you're here, I'm fine."

He just sighs in reply, knowing not to argue.

_I'm fine, I have to be. He was the one that was captured._

We stay in bed, holding onto each other for both comfort and warmth before pulling the covers up to our necks, "So… your family wants us to get married here…" he starts, and I nod into his chest. "How do you feel about that?"

"If my mom, Prim, and Gale can come up, I'm all for it. But what would I wear? I suggested my blues, but Grandma Sae told me I could wear the dress my mother wore." I say, shrugging. "I'm just not sure your family and my family would get along in an enclosed space," He chuckles at this. "We could use Sae's barn; she hasn't had an animal in it in like twenty years. Either my aunt… or cousin…wait, definitely cousin, had their wedding there a few winters ago, it was pretty."

"You're conflicted…" he sits up and I roll over, "And that's okay, but…" he pauses and opens the drawer of his bedside table, "My mother wanted you to have this." I sit up and watch him pull out a small black box, "It was my grandmother's…" he opens it and I hear myself gasp.

"I can't accept this!" It's a peace offering. A single round diamond nestled in a gold band, etched with a beautiful filigree. "Wait, your _mother_ wanted me to have this?"

He smiles and slips the band on my finger; it fits perfectly. "She told me that no daughter-in-law of hers would be caught dead without an engagement ring… then she questioned me for not buying you one."

"Because I would have said no," I twist it around on my finger, marveling at it, "It's beautiful…"

He kisses my forehead, "I know you joked about flowers, fancy clothes and what not… but that's not us."

I nod and smile. "I was joking. You know that, right?"

He shrugs and wraps his arms around me. "I was hopped up on painkillers, you could have told me I could fly and I would have believed you. I wanted to do something romantic, but I honestly can't think of anything more romantic than us being snowed in, cuddling in bed…"

"You're going soft on me, Mellark," he smirks and tugs me so I'm lying down, then climbs on top of me. "Or… or not." I want him, but stripping our clothes off would be bad, especially since the temperature in the bedroom was dropping fast. "But… could we just…" I bite my lip and look up at him, "You know, cuddle?"

He smiles and rolls off, pulling me to him as I adjust the covers, "Every night for the rest of our lives."

"I like the sound of that…"

He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my nose before asking, "What's the very latest we can leave for North Carolina?"

"You have to report on the eighth of April?" He nods, and I think for a minute. It's about a ten hour drive given traffic around Harrisburg, DC, and Richmond. "Probably the fourth? Gives us a day to get down if we drive in shifts, then the weekend to unpack and get situated."

He nods, "We should do it, get married up here. Our families can be here to see it. If we tell them early enough, Gale and Johanna can get a seventy-two so they can come up, too…"

I nod and smile. "When then?"

"The last weekend in March? Gives them the most amount of time, gives us time to find you a dress…"

I kiss him lightly, "If I'm wearing a dress, you'll be in a tux."

He rolls his eyes, "I earned my blues."

I pout, "So did I!"

He pulls me close and rolls onto his back, shifting me like a doll on top of him. "Yeah? But I earned a chance to see you in a wedding dress."

I huff and sit up, "Ass…" I grumble at him.

"You can wear your blues to the next Ball…" he points out. Oh yes, the Marine Corps Ball, something I've avoided in my last four years of service.

"Do we have to?" I pout again like a child and lay down on top of him, nestling into his chest.

"Maybe… we'll deal with that in November when it actually matters," I nod and close my eyes, listening to his slow breathing and loud heartbeat.


	26. The Ultimatum

**I would like to thank my awesome beta Chelize for not only taming this chapter, but for getting me onto AO3, though nothing will be posted there for some time.**_  
_

**I'm starting to play around with tumblr. It confuses me, but falafelwaffel . tumblr . com. I'll be using it as a fanfiction related blog or just kind of go nuts in it and post random stuff.**

**Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games... I just decided to send Peeta and Katniss off to war.**

* * *

_March 2004_

The forest is eerily calm the few days after a large snow storm. The bare branches hang sadly coated in ice and fluffy snow from the two and a half days of steady snow. I had to leave the dog at home, not wanting to worry about the safety of her poor paws and not needing to carry her home through the knee high snow. It's a struggle getting from the bridge to the forest, but my body needs it. Six days of rest and I was going crazy, having cleaned almost every surface in the house. If we had hot water for the washers, I would have done the sheets and maybe even the curtains.

Peeta called it stir crazy, but I preferred the term trapped.

It was early - barely six AM and the biting wind blew a drift's worth of snow into my collar. I fixed my zipper for the hundredth time and continued my trek. It was the time of year where winter was about to give way to spring. All the wildlife has been laying low for the last few days and the hungry prey would be dumb enough to meet my bullet. Even larger kills, like deer and unfortunately, bears, would be about.

My "go-to" spot is the back of the rock face where Phoenix and I usually hide, but today I need to be up and away from the creatures. I looked at a decent sized pine to perch up in, but the needles held far too much snow to make it a safe option.

I dig my toe in the snow and a white stick comes up, a dropped antler. "Perfect!" I exclaim, digging around for about a half hour until I get a matching set. I couldn't hide my grin as I searched for a suitable perch, but came up with nothing. Oh well, back to the rock face…

Too lazy to walk around, I settled for a climb. It wasn't very high, barely fifteen feet. Fortunately for me, the rock in this area didn't break off in sheer sheets. Instead, it yielded to large hand and foot holds which were covered in snow and ice, soaking through my gloves pretty quickly.

"Guess tactical gloves were a bad choice…" I grumble, swinging my leg up onto the small cliff. I took a moment to brush off the snow. It was shallow, the wind having blown it down to the bottom so soon I'm cross-legged on the frigid rock. The deer weren't going to be in the rut, so my plan on drawing them out with dropped antlers was a long shot.

I also didn't have any feed, so I would have to settle.

"What are you up to?" a familiar voice says. I spin around, my rifle in hand.

"Hunting. What are you doing here, Waterfall?" I ask. His old hound is missing, most likely for the same reason I left Phoenix at home.

"Same thing as you I reckon, you know how the critters go batshit after a good snow," I nod and catch the dried cob of corn he tosses at me.

"I would have thought you'd bring your boy out here," he says as I spin around, looking over the cliff.

"Peeta took a bullet to the leg while we were in Iraq. I doubt he could make the hike on a good day…"

Waterfall sits down next to me and spits obnoxiously, "You guys discuss our offer?" I nod in reply, pitching the cob over the edge into the clearing where I had seen tracks before and signs of nests.

"Yeah, we were thinking the twenty sixth of this month?" I say as a deer ventures from the thicket to investigate the new food. "That way, we can give my mom and Prim, and maybe even the rest of Hawthornes a chance to get up here. I'm sure the new sheriff needs to be broken in some as well." I wait for the deer to turn its flank to me so I can take the shot. "Gale and I could raise some hell again," I snicker as I pull back the bolt and aim for the kill zone.

"If I offer to give you half of this, will you drag it back to Rooba for butchering?" I inquire.

"If you take it down with a real weapon," he pauses, "I'll give you all of it, and my wife's ring for your little friend." He hands me a scope-less rifle. It's old, and the bolt doesn't draw back as smoothly as mine.

"What caliber?"

"Doesn't matter, you're missing your chance…" he says, pointing at the deer. I haven't had venison in ages, especially fresh venison. So I aim with the sights, pull the trigger and hope for the best.

Although it wasn't a perfect shot, I see red blood stain the snow as the deer runs to its death. "Nice shooting, Tex!" Waterfall shouts. "A little off, but Abe would be proud." We hear a thud and a whine in the calm woods. "Let's go and take care of it."

Between the snow and the shot, the buck barely made it twenty yards before dropping. "When we were kids, Gale and I took down an eight point," I recall as I pull out my hunting knife after insuring my prey is dead.

I worked with the precision and determination instilled in me by my father. "At Least the coyotes will eat well," Waterfall chuckles as my field dressing pile grows, "I'll call shithead."

I'm left alone to work for a few minutes as Gale's grandfather calls who I assume to be Jessop. Once the internal organs are removed, which taint the meat, I realize I have nothing to secure the legs or help drag it. "Jess will be here in about ten," I nod and gather some snow, watching as the melting powder washes the blood from my hands. It's not enough - there is still plenty left on my knees and between the cracks in my skin.

I was busy petting the wiry fur on the deer's head when it happened. My eyes couldn't break from the red snow around me, or the bloody knees of my pants.

I hear a cough, weak and wet. When I look down, Rue's dead eyes meet mine. "No…" I whisper, stroking back her hair. "No!" I roar. This was my kill, no…

"I didn't kill her, it wasn't me!" I sob, looking up at my companion. "Peeta, I'm so sorry!" He didn't look angry, but confused.

"Katniss," Peeta kneels next to me.

"She's just a little girl, I didn't mean to, I didn't…" I cry, looking down at Rue's dead eyes before everything begins to shake.

"God dammit, Katniss!" _Wait…I'm not in Iraq… I'm in Pennsylvania._ "You've gone batty just like your Momma!"

My jaw snaps closed as I look up at Waterfall. "Well drop the knife, dammit!" he yells. "And you're holding it by the blade!" I look down and throw my blade like it was made of fire. It is then I realize that my palm is stained red with my own blood.

* * *

"She was screaming in the woods…" I stare out the window, listening to Peeta and Waterfall discuss my outburst.

"What about?" he asks idly, blotting away the fresh blood and cleaning my wound. I'm pretty certain it's going to need stitches.

"That she didn't kill 'her'." Waterfall says. "I was about to correct her, but thought that would be worse."

Peeta nods and wraps my hand in a rag. "I'm taking her to the hospital."

"No," I finally say. "No hospitals, no doctors. I'm fine," I try and pull my hand away with no luck. "Please, Peeta…" I whine.

I feel a hand on my chin and Waterfall forces me to look in his eyes. "Listen, girl, you're sick," he states as I struggle away, "Protect the family."

"Protect the family…" I echo. Was I really that much of a threat?

"Come on, Kat," Peeta helps me to my feet, then looks at Waterfall. "I'll take her to Wilkes General."

"I'm going to call Lilly." I give up and decide to just let them take me. They'll figure out that there's nothing wrong and send me home with a few stitches in my hand. "You two go on ahead, Jess will get me in a few. Call me when they're done looking at her," Waterfall says.

I still don't argue, or speak on my own behalf. Right now, that's Peeta's job.

* * *

I wince as the nurse pokes at my cut to test the numbness, "Can you still feel?"

I nod, my good hand holding tightly onto Peeta's. "Just go ahead…" I mumble, "I've been through worse…"

I look up at Peeta and smile faintly as the needle sinks into the flesh of my palm. "Numb yet?" he asks.

I nod slightly. Though the pain in my palm is very real, I _felt_ nothing. It's been gradual since my return. The less I sleep, the less I feel. The only things that keep me up and on my feet are Peeta and Phoenix, my two beacons of hope.

"Dr. Aurelius will be with you shortly," the nurse tells me, leaving the room after wrapping my hand in gauze.

I hop off the table and pull my coat on. "What are you doing?" he asks incredulously. Peeta hasn't moved an inch; he's the one with the keys.

"Leaving, my hand's fixed. I don't need to see the doctor. I want to go home."

"Katniss, you need to talk to someone…"

"I have you…" I whine, trying to plead my case. I don't _want_ to talk to someone.

His eyes leave mine, hurt written all over his face. "You never have before," he grumbles. "Every night you lie awake until you think it's appropriate to wake up, then spend half the day in the forest. When you get home you barely talk, and you don't eat. Katniss, have you _looked_ at yourself?"

I bite my lip, "The power's been out… "

He gets up from the chair and removes the shiny lid of a tongue depressor jar to show me my face. I've kept the boys well fed on grouse and anything else I could get my hands on, but have skipped enough meals to give my face a very slight, sunken-in look that you wouldn't question if you didn't know me. Under my eyes are deep, purple circles from stress and lack of sleep. "I'm sorry if I'm not up to your standards…" I hiss. "Now can we please go home, Peeta? I just want to lay down…"

"Katniss," he says softly, taking my hand as I go for the door. "We're not getting married until you at least talk to someone." _Great, an ultimatum._ Either I talk to the hospital shrink and have them start their little file on my mental issues, or risk losing the man I love and possibly more.

I actually_ want_ to marry Peeta. Not just because of the benefits or that there will be two Sergeant Mellarks at Lejeune, which I'm sure will provide some amusement. The fact is that I _want_ to be Peeta's bride. The thought of walking down the aisle in the same white dress as my mother with who knows escorting me, probably Gale, has crept up on me in the last few days.

"If… if I have PTSD, they could discharge me," I say, my voice cracking as I stare at the door. "Or take away my clearance to be a sniper. They'll take what makes me _me_ away…"

"Those things don't make you, Katniss." I bite my lip, how could he not already see that the Marine Corps is my life?

"Your compassion, determination to do whatever you set your mind to… how you drown your food in hot sauce and scowl at everything… only smiling occasionally…" he sighs, realizing he's rambling. "I'm sorry…"

I sit down on the table again, waiting for the doctor while playing with the stirrups for the gynecological exams performed in this do-it-all hospital. We don't have specialty centers in the mountains. If you need something big like a transplant or trauma care, you'd be sent to Allentown, Harrisburg or even Philadelphia.

When I was young and the mines were still open, when the family didn't rely on drug money, a man blew his leg clear off and was flown to Harrisburg to go to a real hospital. Yet we could repair a broken femur in Baghdad, Iraq.

I ran my finger along the gauze as the door creaks open. "Good evening," I hear a man's voice say but I don't look up. I don't want to see him, I just want to leave.

"Can she speak?" the doctor asks Peeta.

"Yes, when she wants to," he says, with a protective edge to his voice.

_Pick a side! Either force me into this, or help me escape…_

"So this is the Sergeant Everdeen I've heard so much about…" he says, which causes me to look up. "She's a lot older than I remember…" Dr. Aurelius scrapes a chair to the foot of the table. "Same eyes as her Dad," I narrow them in response, "Same scowl, too. You don't remember me, do you?"

"N-no…" I choke out.

"I treated your mother years ago," I nod. "I used to make house calls for your mom."

"Why are you here?" I grumble. "Don't shrinks operate out of fancy offices?" I say, sneering.

"I do have an office. Can you leave us for a bit, Peeta?"

He nods and kisses the top of my head, despite my filth. "I love you…" he says.

"And I love you…" I whisper back. When the door closes, I look at Dr. Aurelius, "I'm not crazy."

He smiles faintly. "You know, I've found that only the truly insane think they're sane. The rest of us think something's wrong." He pulls out a pen and begins to write on his large yellow pad. "Now, you already have a family history of depression," he says and I shift uneasily. I need Peeta, he makes me feel brave.

I try to calm my now rapid breathing. "Would you like me to bring Peeta back in?" he asks, and I nod. Once he returns to the room, I hold his hand tightly. His strength is my strength, and if this goes terribly wrong, I don't have to hunt him down to make an escape. "Now, where were we?" Dr. Aurelius continues.

"My mother…"

He nods. "Ah yes, now, you just returned from Iraq?" I nod, "Tell me about your time there."

I bite my lip, my teeth catching on a piece of dried skin making me wince. "I was sent there in May, after being non-deployable for…well, a while."

"What was your job, your purpose?"

"Before Iraq, I protected government officials. When I was deployed, I was a sniper," he nods again and writes. "Our first leg, I was more of a counter-sniper. The last leg, when we were in Baghdad, I protected convoys while they retrieved airdrops. Then I was in charge of the female PT after our Lieutenant was taken…" I finish, feeling Peeta stiffen.

"How have you felt since you returned to America?"

I think for a second. "Bored? Anxious? Like I don't have a purpose?" I avoid looking at Peeta as the doctor continues to write.

"She doesn't eat, and when she sleeps, it's only for an hour or so at a time. When it's longer, she wakes up screaming," Peeta interjects, and I scowl at him. _Traitor…_

"So night terrors, loss of appetite… has your mind gone elsewhere?" Dr. Aurelius seems to be pussyfooting around, avoiding specific questions.

"Yes… Sometimes I blink and I'm back in Iraq, but only the bad times. Like today, I… I saw a little girl, Rue. I was cleaning a deer I'd just shot and the blood and…" my breath catches in my throat. "Can I leave? Please? I just want to go home…"

"Shortly, now… Unfortunately, it's sounding like you do have post-traumatic stress disorder, though you are still functioning very well aside from the insomnia and loss of appetite." Dr. Aurelius concludes, pulling a small pad of paper from his crisp white coat. "I'm going to start you on a small dose of Zoloft. Take one daily with food," he rips the paper and knowing better, hands it to Peeta. "Klonopin for when you're having an episode. Though with this one, don't drive or drink. It's a low dose, but until we know how it'll affect you… they're only for emergencies," he says and scribbles his signature, handing that one to Peeta as well. "Fill these as soon as possible, and pick up a pack of melatonin pills while you're at it. I don't want to load you up with too much, but they'll help with the insomnia."

He taps his chin with his pen. "I'll be by the house in two days for Peeta. We'll speak then. Go home, get a shower, and go to bed. Tomorrow will be kinder, Katniss…"

I try to believe him, but still cry the whole way home. Peeta doesn't talk to me; he seems to think I'm angry. I'm actually grateful, I think. If I'm not bad, they'll keep me around, which means I can keep my job.

* * *

"Don't go…" I say as I stand in the door of the bathroom, towels in hand. "Please, Peeta, I… I miss you."

I just stare in the shower as my fingers idly trace our matching scars. "I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable," he says quietly. "I was just so afraid…"

I stay silent for a minute before sighing again, "I know… thank you. I don't…" I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling myself flush against him. "I love you, Peeta," I say, squeezing my eyes shut. "You know I would do anything for you, even step out of my comfort zone…"

The medication makes me hyperaware of my fatigue. Before long, I'm curled up in bed with the dog, idly stroking her wrinkled face. "Someday, I'll look like you, all wrinkly." I spoon my watch dog, soaking up her warmth.

"And if you're half as beautiful as her, I'll be the luckiest man alive…" Peeta says as the bed shifts and his warm lips brush against my cheek. "Your mother's on the phone, she wants to talk to you…" I just nod and he lays the phone across my face instead of handing it to me.

"Ass…" I mumble, chuckling a little.

"I missed your laugh…"

"Katniss?" my mother asks.

"Yeah, it's me…"

"Peeta told me… I wish I could be there for you right now, but I can't take any time off." I feel my heart sinking, would she be able to come for the wedding? If she couldn't, then Prim couldn't…

"I understand…" I whisper, tears stinging at my eyes.

"Yeah, they won't let me take two weeks off in the same month. I can't pull Prim out of school for that long, either. She's so excited to see you."

I smile, kissing the dog's head, "I miss her, too. How is she?"

"Worried sick, but she's at Rory's…" I yawn a little, "I'll let you sleep, Katniss. We'll talk later when you've actually slept."

"Yes, mother…" I say and yawn again, "Love you…"

"Love you too, and please give Peeta my thanks."

"I will…" I confirm as I hang up. If it wasn't for his doting, I would have probably just endured. Who knows, I still may need to?

"Coming to bed?" I ask Peeta over my shoulder.

"You two are taking up the whole bed," he gripes and snaps his fingers. "Phoenix, move…" The dog sighs but slowly takes her post at the bottom of the bed, circling three times before flopping down. She'd be back by morning.

Drawers open and close and before I know it, a warm body is pressed against mine. "Peeta?" I ask, lacing my fingers with the ones on the hand draped over my waist.

"Yes?"

"Please, promise me you'll stay with me no matter what?"

He kisses the back of my neck lightly. "Always," he promises.

* * *

**Rumor has it that fanfiction . net is removing stories for sexual and violent content. This puts many stories (Including mine) in jeopardy of being taken down. If this happens to any of my stories I will be posting them on AO3, but I won't jump the gun, this is my fanfiction home.**

**There is a petition going around to tell to not restrict our imaginations, a link will be posted in my profile and please please please take two minutes and sign!**

**Your signature will allow fan's and author's to unleash their imaginations without restrictions!**


	27. The Olive Branch

**Good morning everyone! Happy Hump Day (Or almost Hump Day!)**

**A zillion thanks to Chelzie for being an awesome and speedy Beta!**

**I don't own the Hunger Games, or the lyrics to the song used in this chapter, Blake Shelton does.**

_March 2004_

It was late when I woke up, too late. If it wasn't for the endless buzzing of my cellphone, I probably could have slept forever. I had left it on the nightstand, so I reached for it without even cracking an eye.

"Hello?" I yawn. It's still ringing, which forces me to open my tired eyes. "Wrong phone…" I mumble, setting Peeta's cell back down and grabbing my own. "Hello?" I say, but it's still buzzing. I missed the answer button.

"Hello?" I snap. Third time's the charm, but I'm still irritated by this whole dual cellphone business.

"Easy girl! I'm not too happy to talk to you either, but… your deer's done," the voice says. I yawn and check the clock.

1100…_Oh god dammit, Peeta…_ I've never slept this late, ever.

"Thanks, Rooba. How much did you get?"

"About fifty pounds? Nice and lean, too. It's a shame; he would have been good breeding stock."

I think about fifty pounds of venison, which is far more than we can handle. "Keep some for yourself," I offer. "I only want about fifteen pounds, and definitely the loins. Please give the rest to the family. How much do I owe you?"

"I'm not taking _your_ money," she snaps. I knew she wasn't saying she was doing it for free. Hell, Rooba never does anything for free; she just doesn't trust my money.

"Aunt Rooba, how much do I owe you?" I ask again.

"Nothing. I'm not taking _your_ money."

"Then whose? Aunt Rooba, I'll give you two hundred in cash in two hours. Then it's _your_ money for the service _you_ performed. Stop being a stuck up bitch and accept my payment!"

There was silence at the end of the line. "Normally, it's a buck fifty for a deer that size," she says.

"Well, I'll give you two hundred because you did it with a smile," I tell her and hang up.

When I walk downstairs wearing something other than camo, the Mellark house grinds to a screeching halt. "What?" I ask, noting that my presence has magically pulled Ryan and Andrew away from their XBOX game. I nervously tug on my tight red sweater.

"Hey Peet!" Andrew shouts, turning around to finish off Ryan's character while he's not paying attention.

"You fucker!" Ryan shouts at his brother.

"What?" Peeta asks, walking into the room. Instantly, I feel a blush creep across my cheeks.

"Nothing, just letting you know your fiancée is finally awake. And you're right, she is hot," I roll my eyes at Andrew, and push past Peeta into the kitchen. His arms find my waist and when he bends back, my feet lift off the ground.

"Jeez, I can't even get coffee without being grabbed!" I exclaim. "What's going to happen when we're married?" My feet are back on the ground now, so I tilt my head back and rest it on his shoulder.

"You're on birth control, right?"

"Mhm…"

"Then I shouldn't have to tell you…" he murmurs, kissing my neck very lightly before playfully biting me. I flail out of his arms.

"So basically like DC all over again?" I ask cheekily.

I know that the other two are listening. As I pour myself a cup of coffee, I silently will Peeta to pick up on my cue and run with it. "Not quite… maybe this time you'll let _me_ tie _you _up?"

I add sugar to my coffee and press myself against him. "God, I love you…" I whisper. "Don't even think about it, though. Besides, how do you expect me to tie up your legs without a footboard?"

Peeta shrugs as I chug my coffee, "We'll discuss this later. You going somewhere?"

I shrug. "My aunt is done butchering my deer, so… to the bank, then to her place. Do your folks like venison?"

Peeta sets a bowl of leftover stew in front of me. "Sure? Why do you ask?"

"Well, what are we going to do with fifty pounds of deer meat? Most of it is going to my family, so I was thinking of offering some to your mom as a peace offering? Or at least my end of it…" I spin my engagement ring around on my finger before stabbing at a fatty piece of grouse in the bowl.

* * *

"So… March twenty-sixth?" Rooba asks as I count out two hundred dollars in twenties from the ATM and hand them to her. Not much has changed in her shop over the years - it's still clean and pure white like I remember it. Most of her cases are empty, though, due to shipping delays from the recent blizzard.

"Mhm, I talked to Mom on the way here. She and Prim are flying up with the Hawthornes," I confirm. She nods a little as my words finally hit her.

"All of 'em?" she asks.

"Hazelle, Rory, Vick, and Posy for sure. I haven't heard from Gale and his girlfriend yet. It all depends on whether they can get time off."

Rooba scoffs, pushing the last of the neatly wrapped and labeled packages in my direction. "If Gale doesn't come up, who the hell is going to walk you down the aisle?"

I bite my lip, having not considered this. Who, if not my father or Gale? Who else would I trust enough to give me away…

"Prim," I say, smiling.

Rooba rolls her eyes and looks at Peeta. "Good luck, boy. Katniss has loved one person her whole life and that's little Primrose. Good luck competing with that."

Peeta pulls me closer to him and kisses the top of my head. "I don't think I need luck…"

Rooba snorts. "That's what Lily thought about Abe, God rest his soul. Poor girl would have gone grey if it wasn't for little Prim…"

"What about me?" I scoff.

She smiles and pats my shoulder with her arthritic hands. "Please, you were the worst little thing any of us ever saw, Katniss. Always scowling and coming home with toads."

Peeta looks at me approvingly. She's right - I was a little demon as a child, and here he wanted to breed with me. _Maybe they should check his head again?_

"And when you brought home that milk snake," Rooba continues.

"Momma ran from here all the way to Grandma Sae's to get Daddy because I dropped it and it slithered under the couch," I chuckle at the memory.

"But milk snakes aren't venomous," Peeta says. I nod in agreement, but I pull up my sleeve to show him a very faint scar on my wrist.

"Yeah, but those suckers will bite and not let go," he rolls his eyes at the sight. "What? I reached down to pick it up. What was I, five? Maybe six…"

"You were the worst…" he says, shaking his head.

I elbow my fiancé in reply, "And you're the one marrying me…"

* * *

I adjusted my sweater for the umpteenth time.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta asks me as he parks the truck in front of his parents' house.

I bite my lip. Honestly, I'd rather go into combat right now than deal with this. I can't tell him that, though. "Anxious," I finally manage.

"Want a…"

"Peeta, I'm not going to take an 'in case of emergency pill' before meeting your mother and father for the first time. You mixed them up last night and I slept for twelve hours!"

"Yeah… you snore… a lot," he teases. I flick my nose with the end if my braid a few times.

"It was Phoenix, not me!" I conclude, reaching over with my left hand to open the door since my right is still incapacitated.

He helps me down from the truck and up the driveway, though I should be the one helping him. The snow that melted during the afternoon sun had refrozen to ice, making my heels a slipping hazard.

"You're wearing a cross," I say quietly, noticing a gold crucifix around Peeta's neck. He's _never_ worn one before, at least not that I've ever seen.

"Well, Mom's pretty religious, and we're already living in sin in her eyes…"

"Looks like we're both trying to appease her…" I say, hugging the bundle of venison to my chest.

He rings the bell and soon enough, we hear footsteps as the door swings open.

"Peeta, Katniss, come in!" Mrs. Mellark greets me with a hug and kisses to both my cheeks. "How are you, dear?"

I try to contain my shock. This woman once cracked me in the head with a rolling pin, and now she's exchanging pleasantries with me?

"I'm well, thanks. We brought you something," I say warmly, handing her the parcel. "Venison loins and some sirloin, I believe."

She pats my cheek. "How kind of you! The boys are in the living room, would you either of you like some wine?"

"None for me, thank you," I politely refuse. My medication had a very clear warning that I should avoid alcohol. With scrutinizing eyes on me the entire night, I should probably heed it. So for tonight, I'd stick with water.

"Mom, I'll have a beer if Dad didn't drink them all while the power was out!" He rests his hand on my lower back and guides me into the living room.

"I heard a rumor that the NHL players might be going on strike," a male voice says. Peeta's father is talking to the boys and hasn't noticed our arrival. He's a stout man with next to no hair on his head. Eventually, his blue eyes find us and he smiles brightly, "Took you two long enough!"

* * *

"So the wedding is March Twenty-sixth? Why the rush?" Mrs. Mellark inquires, her eyes finding my abdomen through the table. _No, I'm not pregnant…_ I try to tell her telepathically.

"It's the longest we could wait while still being up here," she nods at her son's words.

"Wine, dear?" she offers for the hundredth time. She's testing me.

It's late in the evening and I've already had my fill of lasagna, so one glass shouldn't hurt. "Yes, please, now that I've eaten."

Her brow furrows, but she gets up from the table and heads for the kitchen. "Thomas!" she screams. "Spider!"

In Iraq, we had these beautiful little devils called Camel Spiders, but that's not what we find when the five of us rush into the kitchen. "I was expecting a camel spider," Peeta admits, having read my mind.

I smirk, "Those things are terrible!" How do I describe an eight legged killing machine? "I found one in my boot once…"

Peeta nods as we return to the table. "I remember that. You screamed and ran from the female barracks to get Gale and I to do something about it." My face flushes with embarrassment.

"Yeah, and what did you two do? Put it in a trash can with another one to see if they'd fight to the death!" Clearly, there's NOTHING more dangerous than bored Marines.

Mrs. Mellark looked at us disapprovingly. There were some happy memories from Iraq, I guess.

"What happened?" Ryan asks with mouthful of food.

I took a sip of my wine, waiting for Peeta to explain. "Well, we didn't find another one, but… I think they were Army patrol…they took it off our hands. Apparently, the spider ate through a snake, a gecko, and was finally taken down by some ants," he finishes. Everyone looks unconvinced.

"Granted, the ants are like… this big," I hold my fingers a little over half an inch apart, "And our spider friend was about six inches long." I shudder at the thought. "Basically, I learned to stuff my boots full of socks from that point on…"

"They don't have spiders in Call of Duty…" Andrew sighs, "Or Battlefield…"

Everyone but the two video game addicts groans in response. "Can't you two think of anything but that damned game for five minutes," Mrs. Mellark scolds before turning back to us. "Now, onto something more important, have you two talked to the Pastor about your wedding?"

"We haven't actually discussed who we want to officiate the service. We might just get a Justice of the Peace to do it…" I bite my lip, listening to Peeta.

"I think a Christian wedding would be… nice," I tell them quietly, even though I'm not convinced. "Can they be performed outside of churches?"

Mrs. Mellark smiles at me. "Oh yes, you and I could meet with Pastor Michael tomorrow."

There are certain times when I stop thinking. The first is when I'm taking a shot with my rifle, and the second is agreeing to meet with my future mother-in-law's pastor.

I smile back, "That sounds great."

_What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Peeta was nervous about leaving me alone with his mother, especially in a church.

"Thank you again for the venison, Katniss. I have some soaking in milk for a stew," she tells me. Soaking deer meat in milk was an old trick used to make it taste more like beef. Since we could barely afford to feed ourselves after Dad died, our family learned to love the gamey taste of venison.

_Would Peeta dislike something like this? Would he even like my cooking?_

"You seem bothered, Katniss. Is it cold feet?" she asks.

I bite my lip. "No, I'm just worried that your son won't like my cooking," I admit.

"Oh, I almost forgot…I got you something," she chirps, handing me a small white box from the car's cup holder. I open it and find a small, silver cross inside.

"This is beautiful," I say in response to her gift. "Thank you, Mrs. Mellark. " She smiles and drives farther in town as I put on the necklace.

"Please," she says. "Call me Mom, or Lisa." I nod.

Peeta and I wanted our wedding ceremony to be small. The Everdeens, the Hawthornes, the Mellarks and our immediate family were invited, no one outside cousins. My mother's parents had long since died, and she was their only child.

Once made, our list had a comfortable thirty or so people on it. Bristel talked us into hiring both a caterer and a DJ. Suddenly, our simple Justice of the Peace wedding was turning into something a little more… real.

"Pastor Michael, this is my future daughter-in-law, Katniss," Mrs. Mellark says, introducing us. "She and my youngest are getting married in a few weeks and they wanted to know if you would be willing to officiate the ceremony?"

I shake the older man's hand. "Katniss… Everdeen?" he asks curiously, still not letting go of my hand.

"Yes, sir."

His old eyes light up. "Ah yes, I performed the service at your mother and father's wedding, and christened both you and Primrose as well."

_I never had a First Communion or went through Confirmation. Could I get married in the church without those?_

"It's on the twenty sixth… will that date work for you?" Mrs. Mellark asks.

I didn't want to make any other decisions without Peeta, so Pastor Michael agreed to come by the house later. This was great, since I knew nothing about being a Christian, let alone a good one. I politely excused myself for a moment, stepping outside for a breath of fresh air.

"Katniss?" a female voice grabs my attention, causing me to whirl around on the icy sidewalk. "Oh my gosh, it really _is_ you!"

A blur of blonde curls and tightly hugging arms latches onto me. "Oh gosh, you're still hard as a rock!"

It's Madge Undersee, using her usual phrase for saying I was muscular. "Yeah, I'm still the same me, just a few more scars. How are you?"

She shrugs, "I'm working as a paralegal up in Scranton until I can go to law school in the fall," she says, brushing my black hair from my forehead. "Where'd you get this nasty thing?" she asks bluntly, referring to the scar on my forehead.

I bite my lip, "A building fell on me. You should see the ones I have on my thigh and arm."

Her face fell. "Oh Katniss!" she squeals, hugging me again. "But you're home now! You're safe!"

_Yeah, I'm home now. But if I'm not as crazy as they think, I'll be going back…_

"As safe as I can be in Nanticoke," I laugh.

It was rare for someone born here to leave. Peeta, Gale and I were the only few who didn't actually return for good. Most of the people in our graduating class would likely return someday.

"Oh!" I gasp, "I'm getting married on the twenty-sixth! You should come!"

Her face falls. "You? Katniss Everdeen? Getting _married_?"

I smile and nod, "Yeah…" Mrs. Mellark is still inside the church with the pastor. "To Peeta Mellark. We were stationed together in Iraq and well… one thing led to another," I say, pulling my coat tighter around me.

"Are you pregnant?" she asks quietly.

"No! Why does_ everyone_ think I'm pregnant?"

"Well, first, because you're you. And two, because you said 'one thing led to another'," she squeals and hugs me again. "Gah! I'm so glad I forced you into going to prom senior year!"

Madge and I agreed to go out for cocktails closer to the wedding, which would be even more fun if Gale and Johanna could make it.

* * *

_March 24, 2004_

Two days. In two days, I could kiss Katniss Everdeen goodbye. I would forever be Katniss Mellark until the day I died. Well, once we got to North Carolina and I filed for my address and name change…

But my _Mellark_ name tags came in yesterday.

"We're going to have so much paperwork once we get to Lejeune…" I grumble, sewing my soon to be surname onto my fatigues.

I was checking the clock every few minutes. My mother and the Hawthornes had landed two hours ago. They flew into Harrisburg and were making the driving up. Needless to say, I was working myself up into a full blown panic attack.

Peeta was offering me Klonopin every few minutes.

"You look like my adorable little wife," he grins, shifting so his head rests in my lap. "Sewing my name onto camo…"

"Sewing my new name on _my_ camo…" I correct him. "I'll never be a 'little wife', but I'll be _your _wife."

One thing I've learned about having PTSD is that I have the mood swings of a pregnant woman with bipolar disorder.

"And that's precisely why we kept the 'obey' out of our vows," he chuckles.

I toss the coat to the side and run my fingers through Peeta's blond curls. "Also because I outrank you, sir," He sticks his tongue out and grabs my arms. I'm not sure how it happens, but soon we're on the ground, him on top of me. His weight is resting on his elbows as our tongues wrestle together.

"And this is why we have a pool going on how long it'll take for them to have a kid!" _I know that voice…_

Peeta jerks up from me. "Johanna!" he exclaims. "I was afraid you two couldn't come!"

I pick myself up off the ground and envelop her in a hug. "Wait… a pool?"

She nods. "Gale and I were debating on whether it'll be nine months from the wedding, or when your contract is up…"

"What did you settle on?" I ask.

"That's for us to know, and you never to find out…" she retorts.

"Come on, it's cold out here," Gale says, pushing us inside. I roll my eyes, since it was unseasonably warm for the mountains this time of year.

"Watch out! Pregnant woman coming through!" I stand on my toes and look over Gale's shoulder to see Major Odair and Annie, who is now heavily pregnant with his child.

"Oh my god…" I gasp, "They're… But how!"

"Annie cried for two days that she was going to miss it," he explains. "Then two more when Abernathy said he couldn't come." She slapped Finnick lightly on the arm. "What!"

"It's true…" she blushes.

"Where's Mom and Prim?" I ask.

"Down at Sae's," Gale tells me. "Which is where we've been instructed to bring you for your 'pre-wedding' party."

"Don't you mean rehearsal dinner?" Peeta asks. He and Gale shake hands, then pull in to pat each other on their backs.

"Listen man, you're about to marry into this family. It'll never be a proper rehearsal dinner."

* * *

This was the first time that Peeta and I would be seeing the wedding venue all done up. We gave Bristel my credit card and told her to have at it… and to our surprise, she did well.

It was a traditional Pennsylvania barn - a faded brick red structure supported by natural rock. When Sae could no longer care for her horses financially, she had cement laid down and allowed it to be used as a flea market for the Seam on Saturdays.

Small, round string lights were hung all around, giving the high celling a night sky look. "It's beautiful…" I gasp, walking down the small aisle to where Peeta and I would exchange our vows. We asked for a tasteful arch, and got more than what we bargained for.

The arch itself was made of long needled pine branches with silky white ribbon wrapped around each limb. There were more lights around it, making the entire space glow. "Whatever we're paying her, we're doubling it…" Peeta murmurs, brushing his fingers against the pine needles.

"She's doing it for free…" I whisper, as the heavy door creaks open. I turn slightly to see our visitor.

"Katniss!" Prim and I have always been fast runners, so she's on me in a second. "I missed you!"

I can't help but hold my eighteen year old sister close to me. "I missed you, too, little duck! I'm so glad you could be here. Where's Mom?"

"Crying, of course. Mom's a wreck!" she huffs. "Peeta's parents just got here, and everyone wants you to show them your dress."

"Everyone's already seen my dress, Prim. Mom and Grandma wore it." I remind her while looking back at Peeta. I just want to stay in here and imagine what would be happening in forty eight hours.

"Kat, go show off for the women," Peeta insists, kissing my cheek. "And good to see you again, Prim."

When Prim said Mom was a wreck, she couldn't have been more wrong. My mother could barely hold herself together. Between the shock of her child coming home from war, my getting married in the same dress she wore, on top of the fact that my father couldn't be here with us, she could barely string two words together. This woman _needs_ Klonopin. Fortunately for me, I had been too stressed over the last month to have any actual attacks.

"You're so beautiful…" Mom finally sighs as I twirl on my toes, the silk and tulle overlay of the skirt fanning out. It was a simple dress with a tank-top like neckline, covered by a see-through tulle overlay that created the illusion of a V-neck. I fiddled with the buttons at my breasts, which were tiny and covered in white silk. There were five of them at the base of the 'V', ending at a thick silk strap located right under the bust line.

"Am I doing it justice?" I ask. Mom bites her lip and nods, holding back tears. I look around the room. Lisa and my mother are actually sitting together. It turns out that Peeta's father and my mother were best friends up until high school. If it wasn't for Lisa getting pregnant with Andrew, my Mom and Thomas Mellark would probably be married today.

Grandma Sae, Aunt Ripper, Aunt Rooba and Bristel keep fussing over how all the Everdeen women have worn this dress and never once has it needed to be altered. Annie's crying at this point. "I'm sorry!" she blubbers, "It's the stupid baby!" She clutches her stomach comically, "Don't tell Daddy I said that!"

"You should get changed, dear, the rehearsal is about to start," Sae says.

I needed to decide - who would be walking me down the aisle? It was the first question Pastor Michael asked during our meeting. _Gale, Mom, or Prim…?_

I hold my hand out to my mother. "Momma, growing up you and I were never particularly close," I begin. "A lot of that had to do with Daddy, who can't be here to give me away at my wedding…" She takes my hand as I continue. "Please, I can't think of anyone else who deserves to walk me down the aisle more than you. No offense, Prim, Gale."

My mother hugs me and we walk down the aisle together. "Here, I will start with the Call to Worship," Pastor Michael explains. "I'll ask who gives Katniss to Peeta. She will take his hand," he says and I mirror what I'll be doing in two days from now perfectly. I want it to be real, even now in my jeans, Carhartt jacket and muddy boots. "After that, we'll move on to the candle lighting for the parents and grandparents who couldn't be here."

"Oh! We have a picture of Daddy!" Prim exclaims.

The pastor smiles and I squeeze Peeta's hands. Real, this was all real - not a fancy fabrication of my mind. On Friday, at seventeen hundred, I would be marrying Peeta Mellark.

* * *

"Girl, you feel like singing?" Waterfall asks, strumming on his guitar. The bonfire rages and I snuggle deeper into the quilt Peeta and I are cuddling under. Every so often, his hand plays with the waistband of my pants.

"You know what, Waterfall? I do."

Peeta looks up at me, shocked. Even he hasn't heard me sing in ages.

Everyone goes quiet as the crooning of the old guitar fills the evening air. I'm already three beers in and at my limit now, so I only half care how my voice sounds.

"Aw come on, don't play _that_ song before my wedding…"

The Hawthorne boys run with it anyways, "I caught my wife with another man, and it cost me ninety nine. On a prison farm in Georgia, close to the Florida line… Well I'd been here for two long years, I finally made the warden my friend. And so he sentenced me to a life of ease, taking care of Ol' Red…"

Waterfall's hunting dog perks up and I sort of fade out until the chorus, when all the men cut out and let me sing, "And the warden sang, Come on somebody why don't you run? Ol' Red's itchin' to have a little fun… Get my lantern, get my gun. Red'll have you treed before the mornin' comes…"

Sometimes I try to pretend I'm not a redneck. But with a belly full of homemade venison stew and my family's anthem being sung, I can't help but accept that I am indeed a mountain girl at heart.

"Eh, you're okay… For a city girl, that is," Waterfall smirks. Great, I still haven't earned that ring.

I stand up from the blanket, "I have a wager, Waterfall." Everyone stares at me as I continue, "I want to bet that I can hide from Red for two hours." He smirks as I take his rifle and remove the ammo. "If Red trees me, I'll be a city girl for life." I point the rifle safely up so that when I clear the barrel no one is in danger. "If I catch you guys, or last the full two hours… you know what I want." I finish, and his old eyes smile.

"Girl, you've gotta be kidding me. Red here could sniff your trail _years _after you left."

"Waterfall," I shake my head, "If I didn't know better I'd say you were scared. You going to take my wager or not?"

"I'll give you a half hour head start," he says. "I want this to be fun…"

I shrug off my coat and give Peeta a kiss. "What are you doing?" he whispers. "Trust me," I whisper back, "Though I may need to be hosed off after I'm done."

The air is warm tonight, the ground soft and muddy. I need to cover my scent as quickly as possible. I have two options - roll around in the mud and take a dip in the creek, or strip down and leave my clothes for Red to find. _It's warm enough to strip, right?_

The first thing to go is my hoodie. I drag the sleeves on the ground, stirring the leaves and leaving my scent before tossing it up into the branches of the pine I shot my first squirrel from. I know these woods like the back of my hand. Once I'm down to my boots, my boy shorts and a tank top, I can only hope it will distract the dog for long enough. I run my scent trail along the river before taking off my boots and crossing the creek. The water bites my skin, still frigid from the winter. I must admit, this is probably the most exhilarating thing I've done since coming home from Iraq.

I love the rush I'm feeling, even if it is only a game. I whistle loudly, trying to lure the dog. It's a four note call my father taught me that the mockingbirds would carry through the woods.

I walk through the mud pantless before heading back to the side I originally came from, towards the light of the bonfire.

The dog is barking, already on the hunt when I climb up into a large pine and wait.

I tap my finger on my thigh, keeping a rough estimate of the time. _Forty five minutes…_ my legs are almost numb when I hear the echo of a snapping twig.

"These your pants, Kat?" His question echoes through the trees. Waterfall's nowhere near me… and moving farther away.

I keep up my tapping until I hit the hour and fifteen minute mark. _I can do it… I can do it…_

I don't hear a thing – no barking, no footsteps, nothing. Then, all of a sudden, the thundering sound of paws and boots crash through the woods towards my position.

_Shit… _I clutch the rifle to my chest, refusing to even breathe.

"Where is she, boy? We got her pants, her shirts…" But I'm not treed. They walk right beneath me, closer to the fire. "There is no way she went back to everyone without her pants…" Waterfall's voice becomes faint as I slowly lower myself from the tree. I silently slip to the ground and creep after them.

"Hands in the air!" I command, in the most authoritative drill sergeant voice I could muster. "Looks like Red's lost his touch…"

I grab my shirt and pants from Waterfall and pull them back on, proud of myself despite the fact that I'm absolutely freezing. "You win. Check your pockets," he says. I dig my numb fingers into my pants and pull out a gold band with three diamonds.

"Say it, Waterfall. I wanna hear it," I smirk as we walk back together. I try to hide my shivering, but between the lack of clothes and the cold water, I need both the fire and my fiancé.

"You're not a city girl, you still have the mountains in you…" he concedes.

"And your dog is getting rusty…"

I toss the rifle over my shoulder as we near the fire. "So who won?" someone asks as I flop down next to Peeta, clutching him for warmth in a restrained manner so as not to offend anyone.

"The bride…though maybe you should tell them how?"

I nervously bite my lip. Peeta holds me close as I begin speaking, the warmth of the fire slowly heating me through. "I may have used items on my person with my scent to lure Red off my trail. Then I hid up in a tree."

"In her underwear," Waterfall adds.

"Yes, in my underwear. Thank you, Waterfall." I can't bring myself to meet Lisa Mellark's eyes.

Finnick is enjoying himself a little too much. He approaches Peeta from behind and grabs his shoulders, "Remember just how prim and proper Katniss was in Iraq?" I duck under the blanket.

"Oh my god! Finnick Odair, our parents are right here. Could you _please_ not embarrass us!" I squeal from under the blanket.

"Is that an order?" he asks, hands tickling me from under the blanket.

"Yes! I don't care if you outrank me, Major! It's my wedding!" I feel like I'm entitled to at least one bridezilla moment.

* * *

_March 25, 2004_

Twenty four hours. In twenty-four hours, I would be married.

"A year ago today, I found out I was being deployed," I tell my friends as I tip my beer to my lips. "Three hundred and sixty five days ago exactly. And if you told me we would be here today, I would have laughed in your faces."

"You didn't even know two of our faces," Johanna smirks, hailing the bartender and ordering three Red Headed Sluts. "And a water for preggo over here!"

Annie rubs her stomach, "Aw, thank you, Auntie Jo…"

Madge seems uncomfortable at my mini bachelorette party, which consisted of a cocktail hour at a local bar before I headed to Sae's to stay with my Mom and Prim instead of sharing a bed with my future husband.

_God forbid we have any more pre-marital sex._ When we set the date for the wedding, Peeta and I had agreed to stop living in sin and wait for our wedding night. Naturally, we both caught each other mastering our domains.

"So you knew Katniss in high school?" Annie asks Madge, positioning her barstool to be comfortable.

"Yeah," she says as the shots arrive. We hold up our glasses for a toast. "To Katniss," Madge says, smiling, "For learning that it's alright to let someone in, to lean on them, and invite them into your heart and soul." We clink our glasses together.

"Salud!" Johanna nearly shouts as I take a drink.

"That was beautiful," Annie sniffs. If this was how women acted when pregnant, Peeta and I would be parenting a lot of fur children.

"Now come on! Last night being single, part two!" Johanna barks.

"No strippers!" I shout as they push me from the bar.

**A/N: I also don't own the lyrics to "Ol' Red", but Blake Shelton does.**


	28. To Have and to Hold

**As always, thank you Chelzie for being an awesome beta!**_  
_

**Thank you for the reviews, and favorites, and alerts. I know there was some concern with the whole 'pastor' thing. Hey, I'm just going on what my mother said. I am in no way an expert on religion... or well... Knowledgeable at all.**

**I still don't own The Hunger Games... And I can't take credit for their vow's... I think Jesus owns them.**

* * *

_March 26, 2004_

I buckle the strap of my white Mary-Jane's. "Aw, Momma, are you going to cry all day?" Prim asks. "You need to do Katniss' hair."

Mom blots her eyes for the hundredth time and began brushing out my long black hair before taking a good portion of it. "I always dreamed you'd wear your hair like this to your wedding," she murmurs, brushing it down to tease it before pinning some back, giving me a small bump in the back. A clump of hair fell down across my shoulders, which she braids like an expert. "Primrose," she asks, "Another pin, please?" The three of us were left alone to get me ready, no one daring to steal a minute of this from my mother. Prim happily snaps pictures, wanting proof of me in a wedding dress.

My mother wraps one braid across my head and the other in the opposite direction, giving me a headband of woven hair. "There…" she says as I check my reflection. I'm not sure I look like a bride, but I do feel like one.

There's a knock on the door. "Come in…" I call, checking my make-up for the umpteenth time.

Lisa Mellark pokes her head in. "Could I have five minutes with the bride?" I look between my Mom and Prim for permission.

"Sure, I need to fix my face anyway…" my mother sniffs as she and Prim step out.

I watch as Lisa sits across from me in the tiny bedroom that has been converted into my dressing room. "I want to… apologize," she begins. I nod slowly, not willing to interrupt her. "For striking you as a child, and for my behavior just after your arrival," she sighs. "I won't make excuses, Katniss, but today you join my family… and I refuse to have any bad blood between us."

I take her hand and smile, "Thank you, Mom." She smiles back and pulls me in for a hug.

"If it means anything to you, I'm not sure anyone in the world could make my son as happy as you do…" she says softly as I hug her back.

"I'm sure you're right…"

I watch the woman who will become my mother-in-law in just over an hour leave the room. I fully expect Mom and Prim to return but when the door opens, Gale walks in, buttoning up his black jacket.

"Are you here for your treasure?" I tease, but my face softens when I see the tears in his eyes. "Oh, Gale…"

"You… you look like a girl…" he says.

I stand, placing my hands on my hips. "Is that your way of saying I look nice, Gale Hawthorne?"

I reach for the jacket I wore over here and pull out the small box containing the ring Waterfall gave me two nights ago. "So when are you giving it to her?"

He shrugs, swiping the box from my hand. "Probably our anniversary in October," he confirms, putting it in his pants pocket. "You know… when we were in high school, I was sure I'd be giving this to you someday…" he sighs.

I roll my eyes and straighten out his jacket and medals for him. "Please. We tried that and as you know, it worked out _really_ bad…"

He just shrugs, "It wasn't all bad…" he grumbles.

"No, but… it was awkward…" He still has that down puppy dog look on his face. "Gale, I'm walking down the aisle in twenty minutes and getting married. You were my first love, but it wasn't romantic love. I trust you with my life, but other people own our hearts," I tell him, slightly miffed.

"I know, and Jo's a much better kisser than you," he teases. All of the tension from a moment ago is gone. "Does Peeta know about us?" he asks.

I bite my lip and look away, "He knows we dated… He doesn't know all the other stuff…"

Gale rolls his eyes. "I should probably go find Jo. I left her alone with Annie…"

I could only blink. "Yes, leave outspoken Johanna with a heavily pregnant Annie."

He reaches forward and brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Hey, Annie's deceptively shy. Trust me."

I turn him around and push him out of the room. "If anything, do it for the baby!" I joke, slipping a little on my heels.

"Yeah… yeah…" I close the door behind him and exhale.

"Just a few more minutes…" I whisper to myself.

Mom and Prim return, giving me one last fluff before everyone scrambles into position. I run through the game plan over and over in my head as I pace, anxious for everything to start.

"Here we go…" my mother whispers, locking arms with me. "Ready?"

"I should be asking you that… Can you do this?" I ask, brushing some of her greying hair. I watch as Ryan and Andrew, Peeta's best men, escort my Maid of Honor, Prim, down the aisle.

"All rise for the bride," I hear as my mother's breath catches. _Here we go…_

We round the partition, the faces of my loved ones smiling, wiping tears, and staring shocked as my mother walks me to my groom. There are more dress blues here than I was prepared for, everyone but Annie donning the well pressed uniform I originally wanted to be in.

This, of course, means that several people are likely in possession of sabers right now. Finally, my eyes meet Peeta's and my breathing stops. I've never seen such a loving look in my life, and it's all for me.

Halfway down the aisle, my mother stops, hunches over and lets out a single sob. "Oh, Abraham…" she cries. I hear footsteps, and a strong arm quickly wraps around my mother.

"He's here with us, Lilly," Gale whispers to her as Prim's arm links with mine. "Every second of every day, they're both with us…" I know he's referring to his own father, the man who died with mine.

Together, the four of us continue down the aisle, finally reaching the arch where Peeta waits for me.

The bridal march cuts out and Pastor Michael begins speaking. "Dearly beloved, with great affection for Peeta and Katniss, we have gathered together to witness and bless their union in marriage. To this sacred moment, they bring the fullness of their hearts as a treasure and a gift from God to share with one another. They bring the dreams which bind them together in an eternal commitment. They bring their gifts and talents, their unique personalities and spirits, which God will unite together into one being as they build their life together. We rejoice with them, in thankfulness to the Lord for creating this union of hearts built on friendship, respect and love," Pastor Michael clears his throat. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

My mother's mouth opens, but nothing comes out for a second. "Her mother, Lillian Everdeen, and her father, Abraham Everdeen," she says, loud and clear.

"And her sister, Primrose Everdeen."

"And her brother, Gale Hawthorne."

Peeta takes my hand and helps me to the altar as my mother, Prim and Gale find their seats.

"Within each human being burns the spark of the Divine. When two people love one another with devotion and freedom, they kindle the awareness of that spark in each other. Take into your beings the warmth, radiance and light that the divine flame represents. Let it light your way on the journey of life that you are about to embark on." My eyes begin watering as I lean into Peeta.

"In committing to one another today, in the spirit of being born new to one another, you kindle each other's divine light and promise always to see that light in one another; to nurture and tend that divine flame in your partner as best you can each day, especially when it may be hardest for you to see, or when your partner doubts or forgets the existence of that light within him or herself." I hear a sniff, and look up to see a single tear run down Peeta's cheek.

"Katniss," Pastor Michael instructs, "Take this candle now and symbolically enter the sacred trust to honor the divine spark in Peeta," I release Peeta's hand and grasp the candle in both of mine, "By lighting it from the candle representing the Divine Source." I tilt the candle in and hold my breath until the wick lights.

"Peeta, take this candle now and symbolically enter the sacred trust to honor the divine spark in Katniss, by lighting it from the candle representing the Divine Source." Peeta tilts his candle and does the same.

Together, we walk to the side where a single, unlit candle rests next to two pictures of people who should still walk this earth but were taken from us. My father smiles in his dress blues in the first one. The second is of Rue, posing for a picture with Peeta and I dressed in full combat gear. "If, at this time, you wish to affirm your free choice to unite as partners in marriage, please light the unlit candle together now," Pastor Michael says. We tilt our candles into the unlit one, the fires becoming one as the final candle lights. "As you bring your individual flames together to symbolically form the new and greater flame of your marriage, never forget that the light of your union is made up of your unique, individual expressions of light and is continually sustained and renewed by your connection to the Divine Spark, the eternal light of God."

The pastor escorts us back to the altar once we place our candles back into the silver candelabra, then continues with the ceremony. "The candle you lit together symbolizes your marriage, your willingness to surrender to something greater than yourselves. Katniss and Peeta, may the light of your marriage be a beacon in the night, a safe harbor from the storms of life. May your future be made infinitely brighter by the light and the love that you share."

Peeta and I are the only ones on our knees for the prayer, everyone else just bows their heads. The wood bites at my knees as I assume the proper prayer position, head bowed, hands clasped.

"Hand in hand, we come before you, O Lord. Hand in hand, we are stepping out in faith. We, who are gathered here, ask that you would take this couple into your hands. Help them, O Lord, to keep firm in the commitments they have just made. Guide them, O God, as they become a family, as they each change through the years. May they be flexible as they are faithful. And Lord, help us all to be your hands if there be need. Strengthen tenderly all of our commitments, through Jesus Christ, our Lord," I let my hand drop from the clasped position to find Peeta's, and our fingers lace. "Amen," the pastor finishes.

"Amen," we all echo as Peeta helps me to my feet.

When I learned about Christian weddings, it took Peeta and I hours to decide on a 'charge', whatever that was. The one I originally liked told Peeta to honor me. Then I kept reading and got to the part where it told me to create a home for him. _How about we both protect and honor one another? How about that?_

"Hand in hand you enter marriage, hand in hand, you step out in faith. The hand you freely give to each other is both the strongest and most tender part of your body. In the years ahead, you will need both strength and tenderness. Be firm in your commitment. Don't let your grip become weak. And yet, be flexible as you go through change. Don't let your hold become intolerable. Strength and tenderness, firm commitment and flexibility, from these a marriage is made, hand in hand." I reach my hand up to blot the tears freely falling from my eyes and lean into my very soon-to-be husband.

"Also remember that you do not walk this path alone. Be not afraid to reach out to others when together you face difficulty. Other hands are there: friends, family, and the church. To accept an outreached hand is not an admission of failure, but an act of faith. For behind us, underneath us, around us all, are the outstretched arms of the Lord. It is into His hand, the hands of God in Jesus Christ, that, above all else, we commit this union of husband and wife. Amen."

"Amen."

We face the pastor, our hands now joined. "Katniss and Peeta, you have made a very serious and important decision in choosing to marry each other today. You are entering into a sacred covenant as life partners in God. The quality of your marriage will reflect what you put into nurturing this relationship. You have the opportunity to go forward from this day to create a faithful, kind, and tender relationship. We bless you this day. It is up to you to keep the blessings flowing each and every day of your lives together. We wish for you the wisdom, compassion, and constancy to create a peaceful sanctuary in which you can both grow in love."

Pastor Michael turns to address Peeta. "Peeta, do you understand and accept this responsibility, and do you promise to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage?"

I look up at him and smile. His eyes are rimmed red and when he finally speaks, his voice cracks, "I do."

The pastor turns his attention to me. "Katniss, do you understand and accept this responsibility, and do you promise to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage?"

"I do," I say and smile, while squeezing Peeta's hand.

We turn and face each other. The pale yellow light of the hundreds of tiny bulbs above our heads almost make Peeta glow. Though he clearly needs a haircut, he's perfect. If I had a million chances to change my life, I would throw them all away if it meant I couldn't be standing here today with this man.

The Pastor instructs Peeta to repeat the vows after him. "I, Peeta Mellark, take you, Katniss Everdeen, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do us part…"

I follow suit with my own vows. "I, Katniss Everdeen, take you, Peeta Mellark, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do us part…" He squeezes my hand.

Prim hands the pastor our rings, and he gives the larger one to me. "Katniss," he says and I blink, realizing I had frozen a little.

"Sorry," I blush before clearing my throat. "Peeta, I give you this ring, as a promise and a reminder of our vows. I may never be a quiet, obedient wife, but I will always be your wife," I slip the ring on his finger, a delicate and plain gold band.

"Katniss," Peeta begins, "There is no end to a circle, just as there is no end to my love for you. I give you this ring as a reminder of the vows we have just exchanged, and as a promise that no matter what I will protect and honor you as long as I live." He slips the ring onto my finger.

This is it… we've done it. I'm no longer Katniss Everdeen. Now, until the day I die, I'm Katniss Mellark.

"By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and our dear Lord, I now pronounce you man and wife. Peeta, you may kiss your bride," Pastor Michael announces. Peeta's lips are nervous on mine at first with everyone watching us. But soon enough, all the passion and desire pent up over the last month pours into this single kiss, just as it had when I first landed in Philadelphia.

My arms drape over his shoulders as his hands find my cheeks, deepening the kiss. Finally, we have to surface for air. "I love you…" I whisper.

"And I love you…" he whispers back, hugging me tightly. "Mrs. Mellark."

"Oh please, Mrs. Mellark is my mother-in-law. Call me Katniss…" I say in his ear as our friends and family start applauding.

My cheeks burn from smiling in all the pictures, but we're finally seated for dinner. Finnick introduces my family to a lovely tradition where the guests bang on their glasses, demanding that the couple kiss. Most people were nice about this, waiting until we were done eating, or not talking to someone.

Finnick and Gale, however, waited until our mouths were full - every time.

"I'm going to kill them," Peeta says through his teeth.

"Which one? Major Odair is going to be a Dad soon." I push back some of his blond curls, and kiss him lightly. "We'll go for Gale instead."

A month was a long time to wait for sex. Every touch, every smile, every one of his kisses set me on fire again. All I could think of during dinner and leading into our first dance, the song we danced to at prom almost six years ago, was getting my husband naked.

As our song ended, we did something we never had the courage to do as eighteen year olds about to sign our lives away to the Marines. Peeta tilts my chin up and ever so chastely brushes his lips against mine.

This, of course, makes me want to rip his dress blues off even more.

I barely pay attention to my own reception. "You seem all hot and bothered," Finnick teases, cutting into my dance with one of Gale's cousins.

I look over his shoulder as Rory Hawthorne twirls my sister. "Sorry, busy watching young love…" I grin, trying to evade this talk.

"So, when's the baby due? When are you planning to have kids? Waiting for your-" I move my hand up to cover Finnick's mouth.

"Stop… Just stop. My husband and I will discuss having children when we're ready."

He cocks an eyebrow. "I'd rather just let it happen. Look at how happy Annie is, that is, when she's not crying her eyes out or yelling at me."

"Letting it happen was a good plan for you and her," I nod as Finnick spins me. "In case you haven't realized, the mortality rate for snipers is only going up in Iraq and Afghanistan."

"You're so grown up. Where did the little girl who yelled at the big bad General go?"

I roll my eyes, "She's still here, she'll be back in Lejeune… or if my officer candidacy is approved, Quantico."

"I know nothing," he tells me in a fake Russian accent. "But I should go and help my girlfriend. She's kind of like a turtle. Once on her back, she can't get back up without a little help." It's either a terribly mean joke… or extremely perverted. With Finnick, you never know.

Two arms hug me from behind, "What did Major Odair ask about?"

"Our deepest secret… when we plan to multiply," I say, rolling my eyes while he kisses the back of my head.

"Yeah, everyone wants to know…"

I smile as we sway to the music, "Three years, at least…" I mutter. "Add nine months, a few months of practice… And who knows if we'll even want kids?" I ask idly before Peeta spins me around.

"You're going to make a great Mom someday…"

Our final posed picture has Peeta and I holding his saber, cutting the bottom tier of the cake his father made for us. It was beautiful - three tiers with little pearls of icing around the bottom of each layer, and a dark blue band around the edges.

It's so plain, but still so gorgeous. "It wasn't easy getting the cake topper with a female Marine…" Thomas explains. I smile and look at the tiny figures in their dress blues. "Well, two Marines…" The saber sinks into the fondant covered confection and when we withdraw it, the delicate blade is covered in the red velvet cake I practically begged for. Someone offers a rag, but instead I run my fingers along the blade, collecting the icing and cake bits.

"Lady like, as always," Peeta scoffs as he watches me.

"Mmm," I moan as I lick my fingers, "So good…"

"Well," Peeta chuckles a little, "Yeah…"

"Shame you were too busy to make it," I nudge him.

"Oh, that was mean!" He takes the small piece we've cut. Instead of popping it into my mouth nicely, he smashes it right below my nose. He spreads his fingers, pushing the cake to my cheeks.

"Peeta!" I stand there, dumbfounded for a good few seconds before I return the favor.

"Always playing with your food…" he teases, leaning in to kiss my messy face. Our guests start to disappear, our friends and family all gone. All that's left here is this one kiss between me and my husband.

"Get a room…" someone sighs, causing Peeta and I to jerk away.

"I love you, Mr. Mellark…" I whisper after we break apart and he begins wiping my face clean.

"And I love you, Mrs. Mellark, even if you are the messiest eater I've ever met…"

* * *

Peeta and I can't get away from our reception fast enough. When we pull into the drive of his brother's house, my underwear is already off, as I had been teasing him and myself the entire ride home.

Phoenix and the boys are staying at their parents', giving Peeta and I the entire house to consummate our marriage in. Once the deadbolt clicks into place, I'm pressed against the door. If DC taught me anything, it was how to get Peeta out of his dress blues. His belt and saber fall to the ground with a thud and I'm on the buttons immediately. "So many…" I grumble as my one zipper slides down. I start wishing I'd worn more complicated underwear instead of the simple white lace bra and panty set Johanna and Gale gave me, though I strongly doubt Gale was in on the gift.

The silk and tulle fall to the ground in a heap. I blush at his hungry gaze, crossing my arms over my chest and one leg over the other as Peeta finishes undressing. "Now you're shy…" he sighs, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me to the couch.

"I'm sorry! This underwear makes me feel ridiculous, you can see right through it…"

"Guess we'll just have to take it off…" he says huskily. I lean forward as his well-trained fingers unhook the lace contraption and toss it aside.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" His lips slam into mine as he pulls me to him. I straddle his legs, running my fingers through his hair as my tongue slips past his lips.

His hungry erection presses at my core. Without thinking, my hips buck a little, causing a moan to vibrate from deep within his chest into my mouth.

I pull away, "Are we really going to do this here?" I ask quietly.

"Do you want to move? We can, we always have the bed, the shower, the kitchen table…"

I cock an eyebrow at the last one before getting off him, hooking my thumbs in his underwear and jerking them down. "How about here, and all of those? Especially the kitchen table."

"Come here…" he growls, pulling me back on top of him. Everything about this first time is hungry and rushed, our self-imposed one month dry spell not allowing for the romance and foreplay one would normally expect on their wedding night.

But as I lower myself onto him, the only noise in the home is my yelp echoing through the vacant space. I know we don't need the warm up. The few preceding hours were all foreplay - each playful rub of a thigh, his fingers brushing my back every so often. "I love you so much…" I whisper, giving myself a few seconds to adjust to the sensation we had willingly gone a month without.

"I love you more…" he teases, grinding his hips into mine. My yelp would make the dog come running to 'protect' me, but in the empty house I'm free to moan or even scream to my heart's content.

Somewhere between me sucking and biting on his neck and his nails digging into the flesh of my backside, I feel myself tear apart at the seams, my pent up sexual frustration bubbling to the surface in an all-consuming orgasm. He pulls me close as every muscle in my body tenses, and every nerve fires.

When I come back to the world, I still feel him hard within me. Guess it would have been too cheesy for us to climax together. I somehow will my jelly legs to push my body up and down on top of him while he buries his face in the crook of my neck. Our sweaty bodies rub together as I milk him for every last drop of his seed.

We stay like that, him still inside me, as our tongues wrestle for dominance in our mouths before I pull away and get off him. "Where are you going?" he asks as I head for the stairs. "You gave me three more options, I figure we'll work our way back down here. I'm taking you up on dirtying that kitchen table…" I run up the stairs, laughing as I hear him scramble up to follow me.

At some point, we curl up together on the floor of the living room wrapped in a throw. "You're so perfect…" Peeta whispers, clutching me tight to his chest as sleep threatens to take me from him. The sky outside is a pale purple, the night quickly giving way to day.

"I think you have me mixed up with some other girl, Mr. Mellark…" I yawn, throwing my leg over his to soak up more of his warmth.

"I beg to differ, Mrs. Mellark…."

* * *

_March 28, 2004_

"Are you sure this is everything?" I ask, positioning the last box in the bed of the truck and help affix the tarp covering the cardboard boxes.

"Everything I own in the world," my husband says, helping me down from the tailgate. Our lips, like magnets, find each other as I'm pressed against the cool metal of the truck.

"Ahem!" I hear from behind and blush as my mother-in-law looks at us with a scrutinizing gaze. "We just came by to say goodbye," I say, hugging my in-laws.

Ten hours, four states. Peeta and I plan to drive in shifts, only stopping for gas and to let the dog out. "I always do, Mom. We'll call when we get there," he says and she kisses his cheek."I'll let you know about Christmas."

She nods and turns her attention to me. "You, the next time I see you, I want you to be carrying my grandbaby," she laughs, patting my cheek.

"Your grandbaby is in the back of the truck, Mom," I look over my shoulder at the dog, whose nose is pressed up against the glass. "But we'll see."

"Drive safe!" they call out as Peeta starts the engine and pulls out of the driveway.

Leaving the mountains the second time is harder than the first. "You're crying…" Peeta's hand finds my thigh as he asks, "What's wrong, love?"

"It's difficult to leave everyone behind this time…"

He gives my leg a light squeeze and sighs, "I know, Kat, but this is our life…"

I nod a little, the gravity of his words hitting me. Our marriage only ensures we won't be stationed on opposite sides of the country. If we're both physically and mentally sound enough to be deployed again, we will be. If it's at the same time, we only have about a fifty-fifty shot of being on the same base. Otherwise, we'd have to be one hundred miles or less from each other.

Chances are one of us will be overseas while the other waits at home.

I lace my fingers with his as we pull onto I-81, "You and me against the world, baby…" I say, kissing his hand as he plays with my engagement and wedding rings.

"Oh, don't be melodramatic, Mrs. Mellark," he says teasingly. I roll my eyes as I unbuckle myself and slip into the back seat. "Where are you going?" he asks.

"To make sure our baby is okay!" I buckle myself in as Phoenix fights against her seatbelt to get into my lap. When she realizes she can't, she settles for resting her head against my leg.

* * *

**"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but *actually* from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff." -The Doctor**

**Now that I've distracted you with a Doctor Who quote... Now that Katniss and Peeta have gotten over another sort of hurdle in their life, there will be a larger jumps in their time streams. I got the fluffy wedding in, now it's time to get back to business! There's still like... Eight years of war, and nothing's ever easy for these two is it?**


	29. Never Have I Ever, Always and Forever

**Somehow I broke 100k words, and that kind of scares me. That's like not a tangible amount of words for me, but apparently here it is!**_  
_

**You might not hear from me for like a week, but you'll survive right?**

**Right?**

**Anyway, the first ten chapters of this story are now on AO3, and have been beta'ed and replaced here.**

**AO3: Falafel_Waffel**

**Tumblr: FalafelWaffel**

**I have a twitter too I think with the same name as my tumblr, but I only use that to stalk celebrities... What? I didn't say that!**

**Thank you Chelzie for being awesome as always and going the extra like 26.2 miles to make sure things aren't confusing even when we're both working! **

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

_October 31, 2004_

"Holy shit! If I see one more sexy Marine, I'm going to vomit…" Johanna grumbles, nursing her third beer of the evening. We had gotten off work at 1500 and were waiting for Peeta and Gale to catch up.

It's Halloween in Jacksonville… and we would be spending it with an infant and the herd of Abernathy kids. Annie had given birth to Finnick's son, Daniel Matthew Odair, in early May.

"Says the girl who walked around base today in a sexy angel costume. I think you gave poor Gale a heart attack!" I say, nudging her.

She just smiles. "And what are you going as?"

I look down, still in my fatigues. Some of us had training today. "A ninja… Or maybe I'll be a secret agent… you think I can carry around my rifle?"

Johanna nearly chokes on her Miller. "Fuck… Everdeen… Not only do I have to spend my anniversary walking a bunch of toddlers around with Abernathy and you guys, I'll be babysitting you, too…"

"Mellark," I correct her, "My name is Mellark…" I smile as I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders.

"It sure is…" Peeta says as Gale embraces Johanna. "You girls ready to go?" I lean into my husband, taking in the comforting smell of sweat and gunpowder.

"Yup, because if Josie here sees one more 'sexy Marine', she's going to puke…"

She just snorts, "After we drop the kids off… We're getting plastered. Absolutely fucking obliterated…."

I just smile and nod, having prepared for this earlier in the week. "I have a handle of Captain…" I remind her.

Johanna chugs the rest of her beer and kisses her hopefully soon-to-be fiancé on the cheek. "Take me home! I'm too drunk to fly," she exclaims. I look at Gale and mouth 'I'm sorry' as I pick up our tab.

* * *

The hardest part about my costume was finding a black jumper. I ended up having to go and buy one from an online lingerie site. It was skin tight, with a collar and no sleeves. Peeta's favorite part, though, was the silver zipper.

"Hey!" I gasp as he unzips it down to my crotch and reaches a cold hand inside.

"I am liking this one…" he says in my ear, pinching my nipple and zipping me up again as I buckle my tactical belt.

"You're really something, babe…" I flop down on our bed and slide on my dark, black leather jumper boots which I had shined to perfection.

"You look good…" I compliment him. We were both going as ninjas, though he chose to cover most of his skin. His black Under Armor shirt clung to every single muscle in his defined chest and back. The shirt is tucked into black cargo pants, which are also tucked into his jumper boots.

"You look better…" he nods, offering me his hand to pull me off the bed.

"Well… yeah, have you seen my butt in these?"

* * *

Lieutenant Colonial Abernathy has the pleasure of living sandwiched between the Hawthornes and us. When we moved in, his wife, Maysilee, came over to make sure our dog wouldn't go after her kids. Two days later, their third child, a five year old blonde who's the spitting image of her mother, climbed over the fence to play with Phoenix.

Little Sophia has been following me around like a little duckling ever since.

"Katniss!" she screams as we enter the house, running and bashing her skull against my pubic bone when she hugs my legs. _Every time… every single damn time!_

"Sophia!" I exclaim. To be honest, children scare me much more than war. I think it's something about their dependency and grabby hands. And the eyes - can't forget the big, searching eyes.

"Annie is nursing, so you'll head out after…" Maysilee says, rushing into the room with their newest addition, one year old Olivia, the baby she had while Abernathy was in Iraq.

Somewhere between Peeta holding eight year old Danielle upside-down until her face went red from laughter, and Sophia unzipping my jumper, the baby decided to vomit on her mother. "Katniss," Maysilee huffs, "Can you…"

"I… Wait…" Before I can object, the child is placed in my arms. I hold her at an arm's length away.

"Mellark!" Abernathy shouts, entering the room.

"What?" Peeta and I whine together.

"Not you, boy, the half-naked one… who gave you my kid?" he squawks. "You have the maternal instincts of a camel spider…" I awkwardly hug Olivia to my chest.

"Hey… I'm a dingo, at least…"

His face falls and he snatches the baby from me. "Give me that… Bad!" He shakes his finger at me, just as I would when scolding Phoenix or Buttercup.

"The dingo almost ate your baby!" Finnick teases in an exaggerated Australian accent, entering the room with his son in tow. "Want this one?" he asks, offering the boy to me. Daniel's red hair pokes out of the hood of his costume, a puffy blue octopus.

"No, please… No…" I insist.

When I was younger, trick-or-treating meant running from house to house like a fiend. Now that I'm in my twenties, it means watching the Abernathy girls run from house to house while we sit around and talk at the foot of people's driveways, only moving when they get a few houses away or if someone knocks over one of the little ones.

"Where are Josie and Gale?" I ask, looking down the lane.

"Probably banging…" Finnick sighs. "It is their what… three year? Four year?"

Haymitch shrugs and sips from his flask, "How should I know?"

"He's proposing to her tonight…" I tell them idly as we move to another post. "So after the kids are asleep and we're camped out in someone's back yard with our handle of rum and whatever you guys bought, hopefully we'll have something to celebrate. Though…" I look back again, remembering Johanna's reaction in Iraq when I even suggested a proposal.

"Shit…" Finnick scratches the back of his head. "Guess we'll have to catch up, Ann…"

She shifts the baby to the other hip. "Please… we're already way ahead of them. I don't want Daniel to think we got married because of him…"

We can speak freely with Finnick and Annie about her being a POW. In the first few months after he was born, whenever Daniel and I were in the same room, Annie would tell him that I was the reason he was here. Whenever she saw Peeta, she reminded him that he was the one who protected his mother.

"Yeah, because Odair didn't have feelings for you at all prior to the kid." Haymitch says sarcastically. "It must have been another Annie he was calling for every night last October…"

"Daddy!" Danielle calls, "We're tired…"

"Good… because adult Halloween is about to start, Dannie-belle!" Haymitch scoops up Sophia while Danielle skips ahead. Their oldest, fifteen year old Isabelle, deemed herself 'too old' for trick-or-treating with Daddy and his Marine friends. She was somewhere out there, avoiding us like the plague.

A case of beer, a handle of rum and a warm October night is all that's needed for 'Adult Halloween' with everyone parked in our backyard.

"Room for two more?" a voice asks. The gate creaks open and in strolls a plainly dressed Gale and Angel-Johanna, hand in hand.

"Sure… you bring any?" Haymitch asks, looking up. "Hello… You know there's kids running around…"

Johanna pulls at her skirt a little, her engagement ring shining in the moonlight. "Fuck off, and pour me a drink…" She pulls out a chair from the table next to Finnick, "It's time to celebrate… _I'm_ getting married."

"Not so fast… I don't make it easy for the brats to get candy," he chides. "You're not getting drunk without doing some work. And congratulations, I always knew you were capable of tricking someone into marrying you, Jo…"

"Hey! Give me some credit!" Gale chuckles.

"Still… I'm going to make you kids work for your booze…"

"Drill Sergeant Abernathy…" I grumble as Finnick snorts into his beer.

"Please… Just what I want to do, work until someone pukes. I have OCS in three months to do that. You apply yet, Kat?"

I shrug at Finnick in response. My application has been sitting on our kitchen table, getting moved from room to room but never sent. "Can we just drink?"

Haymitch slides the booze close to him, "Now… What game to play…" he ponders.

"Dice, play dice. We'll get Jo and Kat out in like two minutes if we play dice," Finnick grins. I guess it's easy for him to put our brain cells on the line due to our smaller forms, especially since his girlfriend has gone home with his son.

"Maybe…" Haymitch digs in his pocket, producing a deck of cards and dice. "We're playing 'Never Have I Ever…'" There's something comforting about how quickly we all turn into immature children discussing drinking games.

"I'll start," Finnick takes a drink, "Never have I ever had sex with a man."

"Aw, fuck you, Odair." Johanna says as we both take a drink.

"Well… Never have I ever had sex with another woman!" I say.

I'm the only one at the table who doesn't drink. "Damn, Josie, proving all the stereotypes right."

"Hmm… Never have I ever had a child." Peeta says.

"Never have I ever cried enough to make the sheriff let me off of a B and E," Gale announces as my jaw drops.

"God dammit Gale!" I yell and take a drink. "I have a reputation to uphold!"

"Cry baby…" Haymitch mutters.

"Never have I ever gotten drunk at the Marine Ball and sang 'My Heart Will Go On,'" Johanna laughs.

I watch as Finnick and Haymitch choke on their drinks, "Don't bring that up… The Ball's in like ten days…"

"Oh, I did…" she teases.

"Fine…" Haymitch huffs and turns his attention to me. "I'm coming for you, sister… Never have I ever assaulted a commanding officer…"

I narrow my eyes and drink. "It was worth it… Does your jaw still click?"

"From time to time…" he mumbles.

By the time my cup is empty, I can't think of anything else to say. That means it's time to move on to the next childish level, Truth or Dare.

"Katniss… Truth or dare…" Finnick yawns into his cup.

"Truth, I'm not moving."

"What was the name of the first person you ever slept with?" I choke on my drink and start chewing on the edge of the cup.

"Gale Hawthorne…" I mumble.

"What? We couldn't hear you, sweetheart."

"Gale Hawthorne," I repeat, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Ha! I knew it…" Finnick cackles.

I look away, afraid to meet Peeta's gaze. "Odair… Shut up, it was years ago…"

My husband wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to him. "Babe… you okay?"

I still don't look at him but continue to drink. "I thought you would be mad…"

Peeta amazes me yet again and kisses the top of my head, "No, of course not, because you ask me about my past girlfriends all the time, Kat."

"Was he good?" Johanna asks curiously.

"We were clueless teenagers, and it was _really_ awkward…" is all I can manage. "Now, can we move onto something else?"

* * *

_November 10, 2004_

"Psst… hey…" I continue typing at my computer, providing satellite information about the potential location of enemy encampments in the desert.

"Go away, Johanna…"

"Shut up, Sergeant Brainless…" She kicks at my shin with her boot. "You wearing a dress to the Ball tonight?"

I snort, "No, I wore a wedding dress to my wedding. I can wear my blues to tonight's shindig." I hit send and begin another message, this time detailing a cargo drop.

"Good… Annie and I are, too… you coming to chow?"

I look up at the clock. I was already ten minutes into my lunch, but I wanted to get my work done. "Yeah, sure…"

"Gale and Peeta just finished their physical test… nothing like seeing my man sweat…" I smirk a little as we walk through the maze that is Lejeune. "Yours is nice, too… Oh, there they are…"

Peeta and I steal a quick and very chaste kiss, since fraternization of any type while on duty is strictly forbidden.

"Sergeant Mellark!" someone shouts.

"Yes, sir!" Peeta and I respond, turning around as a Sergeant First Class strolls up. "Lieutenant Colonel told me to give you this, Mellark," he says, handing me a white envelope.

No one moves, no one even breathes. In the military, an envelope means one of two things - mindless bullshit or deployment.

"Thank you, sir…" My voice is listless as I tear into the envelope.

_Gunnery Sergeant Katniss Mellark,_ it reads. My eyes skip ahead to the spoilers at the end, where I see a report date.

"No…" I whisper. I can't be deployed. I read the actual letter, trying to confirm my suspicions. "Oh, false alarm… It's just OCS…" It takes a moment before my words actually register in my head. "OCS! Holy…" I scream as Peeta squeezes me and lifts me off the ground.

"I told you they wanted you!" He hugs me tightly before setting me back down.

OCS is Officer Candidate School. Ten weeks up in Quantico, Virginia, getting screamed at and ran until I'm half dead. It's pretty much basic training on steroids.

"When do you report?" Gale asks as I stuff the letter in my fatigue shirt. I can't let go of Peeta's hand. Ten weeks away from him…I could do it…

"January twenty-third to March thirty-first…" I bite my lip, "Awesome, I'm going to miss my first anniversary," I grumble as we push into the noisy mess hall.

Things are more relaxed in here, so Peeta kisses me fiercely on the lips. Since this is a Marine Corps building, though, we have a room full of jarheads cheering for us. "We'll have plenty more anniversaries, Kat…" he promises.

* * *

Ugh, too many pictures. The Marine Corps Birthday Ball is most definitely a tool used to boost morale. Anyone who isn't on duty is there in full dress blues, ready to celebrate the birthday of our Marine Corps. It's held off base at a pretty nice hotel, the name of which I never bothered committing to memory.

"I should have worn the pants, I hate pantyhose…" Annie sighs. "I should call the babysitter…"

Finnick snatches her phone away. "Annie, Daniel is fine. If something goes wrong, which it won't, Isabelle will call us," he says soothingly.

We pose for couples shots and a group photo in front of our nation's flag and the Corps' flag before Johanna, Annie and I opt for the cheesy 'Charlie's Angels' shot.

"Come here…" Peeta takes both of my hands before bending over slightly. Before I know it, I'm over his shoulder.

"Peeta! What are you-?" I squeal before turning my head. Sure enough, Annie and Johanna are in similar positions.

I lose a heel, Johanna's hair comes undone and Annie just accepts her fate.

"I know three guys who aren't getting laid tonight…" Johanna grumbles while I fidget to get my shoe on.

"I hope my backside looked good…" Annie just sighs. "The front is still kind of a mess."

It wasn't a somber evening, but still we were very serious… at least for the beginning.

General Paylor is back in town, having returned from Iraq to speak before dinner. "Please stand at attention to salute our Nation's flag," her voice echoes through the room as hundreds of chairs slide out while the National Anthem plays.

As a reflex, no one in uniform sits down immediately until Paylor instructs us to do so. "Two hundred and twenty nine years ago today, your Marine Corps was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Thousands of men and women over those many years have earned the title of Marine," I sip at my water, just wanting to be fed. "Because you aren't handed the title, you earn it through sweat and blood. As we celebrate today, please take a moment to remember those who cannot be with us today, as they are either defending freedom or have given their lives in its name…"

I chew on my chapped lip. _My Dad could have been here… who knows what rank he would have earned by now?_

After the General speaks, all bets are off.

"Jarheads…" Gale sighs, tilting his head towards a table of privates talking about 'getting some'. "And we're going back with them, Jo…"

I choke on my drink, "What!" The few tables around us go silent at my near squeal.

"Johanna and I are going to Afghanistan in three weeks. For eight months…"

"Six for me," she says, half holding a hand up and waving with her fingers.

I nod, soaking this in. "When are you going to get married then?"

"We're going to the Justice of the Peace the next afternoon we have off," Gale confirms. I try to push the thought of my best friend and his future wife in a war zone and actually enjoy the evening. _Such is the life of a Marine, _I remind myself over and over again. Someday, I'm sure I'll be going back.

After dinner, someone rests their hand on my shoulder and gives an affectionate squeeze. "Hey gorgeous, thought I'd actually get to see you out of uniform… care for a dance?" the man asks and I look up. It's one of the rambunctious jarheads from the next table who had been talking about 'getting some' over in Iraq. _Wonderful…_

"No… thank you, though. I only dance with men who've earned their blood stripes," I say, pointing at his plain blue pants. This man works in my shop.

"Aw, come on, Mellark! You know you want to…" he pleads as I narrow my eyes. His tone makes it seem like he's hinting at something.

"Dude, she's married… to him," Johanna says, pointing at Peeta, who's much larger than the private.

If he were nicer, I might have considered it. This private, however, is known for making sexist and perverse comments from the start of his shift to the end.

"May _I_ have this dance?" Peeta asks, taking my hand.

I lace my fingers in his and smile. "This one, and every other for the rest of my life…" I whisper. Peeta kisses my knuckles and smiles as we head to the floor.


	30. Candidate

**Hope everyone is having an awesome week, you probably won't hear from me for a while because I'm in Florida enjoying the well… Rain.**

**Follow me on tumblr and find me on AO3 (where my fics will be found if they're removed). The links are in my profile, but both usernames are Falafel_waffel.**

**As always thank you Chelzie for being an awesome beta, and listening to my mindless ramblings.**

* * *

_January 2005_

I leave for OCS in two days, or forty-eight hours, and I can't let Peeta go. Between stolen kisses at work and our endless love making, you would think I'd be sated. Nope.

"Don't you two ever stop?" Prim sighs, packing what was once my car to go back to Duke. "Seriously, I'm going to have a niece or nephew before I go back for my sophomore year…"

"Speaking of which… Question number sixty-one, females only… Do you have any reason to believe you are currently pregnant…" I read aloud, propping myself up from lying on top of my husband. "Can I put not applicable?"

Peeta sits up a little and kisses my nose. "Just put no…" he murmurs.

"Fine…" I sigh, "You're no fun…" I mark the box with an X and continue answering questions.

He sighs dramatically. "Fine, then I won't wait for you to come home to transfer up to DC…"

"Hey! We're going conditionally, if I make Second Lieutenant." This isn't at all true. Peeta's linguistic skills couldn't be fully utilized in North Carolina, so we are being transferred to Washington, DC, in April. For me, it would be the first time having a different address than my mother. She is basically living with her boyfriend, Doctor Robert something or other. Prim and I don't mind him, but it was a little weird when he told us, in a very tacky fashion, that he had no intentions of 'replacing our father'.

Since then, we've had to remind him once or twice that we are adults and understand completely.

I'm getting distracted from the issue at hand, though. Married military couples are supposed to be kept on the same base, and I was Peeta's tag along. But since I still outranked him, I had to be a little cocky; especially when my old position was offered to me on the condition that I skip OCS and go back to non-deployable status. I'm not sure many people have the opportunity to say "no" to an offer from the President… or at least one made on his behalf.

"Can you believe Mom won't be here to see me off?" Prim grumbles while separating Buttercup and Amal, who are play fighting with each other as usual.

"Mom's coming out to see you in a week. What about me?" I ask.

"You're going to summer camp, classes and playing in fields…" my husband teases.

"And ten weeks of drill sergeants screaming in my face…" I say, rolling my eyes.

Peeta's warm arms wrap around me. "What? Think you can't handle it, maggot?"

"Sir! Maggot can handle anything you throw at her, sir!"

Prim makes a face at our banter. "Eww, you mean they really degrade you like that?"

Peeta brings his arm up to cover his eyes. "It's not degrading, it's…"

I yawn, finishing his thought for him, "Dominance. Peeta's going to get to do it this summer with some grunts if they need more Sergeants, or me, if I don't pass. Who knows… maybe we'll see the inside of Parris Island again?"

"Gag me…" Peeta groans. I stick my middle three fingers into his mouth.

"Good?" I ask as he bites down on them and nods. "Ass…" I mutter, throwing my Pre-Ship Checklist onto the floor. I quickly go back to using my husband as a mattress, just as his massive hands come down hard on my backside, kneading the flesh.

* * *

_January 27, 2005_

"Next!" a voice shouts. I look around the intake room. I was one of about fifty females here, enough for a small company. "Next!" I blink, realizing there was no one in front of me, and step forward. "Name?"

"Katniss Mellark," I reply, shifting my bag on my shoulder, distributing the weight. It would have been better if I could be here in the summer, wearing sweat shorts and t-shirts instead of heavy fatigues and combat boots. Not to mention I was instructed to bring two pairs.

"Currently enlisted?"

"Yes, sir…"

He cocks an eyebrow, finding my name in the computer. "Current rank, Miss Mellark?"

"It's actually Misses, but Gunnery Sergeant."

His face goes serious, which is a behavior I'm going to have to get used to all over again; chummy one minute, screaming in your face the next. "Well, you're C_andidate_ now, Mellark," he bites back, handing me a pair of forest fatigues and yet another pair of boots to haul around. "Foxtrot Company, bunk thirty-six. No pillow fights."

I wanted to roll my eyes, though I knew that would end badly. This man was a Staff Sergeant. Outside of this camp, I would be his superior. But here, however, I was the bottom of the barrel; not even a Private, I was a _Candidate._

Candidate Mellark.

I step into the frigid January air. The next ten weeks are going to be hell.

* * *

Odd numbered bunks were up top, even on the bottom. _Wonderful…._ I'd not only be sleeping in a long hall full of strangers without my personal space heater, but someone would be on top of me adding to the claustrophobia. Living conditions like this were supposed to increase camaraderie. Perhaps this holds true for the men, where the 'brotherhood' ideal is injected into them the second they get off the bus. In the female bunks, however, there's more of a catty air about. Each and every one of us would need to break that train of thought if we wanted to get anywhere.

"Parris Island all over again…" I sigh to myself.

Not all of the candidates at OCS are enlisted. In fact, many are college students or people with professional degrees. The woman in the bunk to my right is still a Corporal. "Five bucks says the little one breaks first," she says. I look up at my bunk mate, a woman about two inches shorter than me with a wild look about her.

"Nah… It'll be me," I say, showing her my ring finger. "Not sure I can last without the sex," I tell her sarcastically. The truth of the matter is I really couldn't bet on who would break first. People do break here - just like Basic, just like on base, and just like in a war zone. A mentally unstable Marine is often just as dangerous as a bored Marine.

Because of my position, I never had the joy of being in charge of any new Marines. I never had the life affirming scream in your face moments, either. Ah well… If I graduate, I'll eventually get to scream at some Sergeants.

"Candidate Cashmere, by the way," she introduces herself as we shake again.

"Candidate Mellark, a pleasure," I smile, stripping off my polo and putting on clothes I don't feel alien in – a dark green shirt, forest camouflage jacket, and pants tucked into my boots.

"Hi!" A head of strawberry blonde hair pokes down from the top bunk, "I'm Abigail, well… I guess Candidate Bonnie now… Your name is Katniss?" she asks.

I nod, tying my boots. "Put your hair up, we're getting inspected in two minutes…" I grumble, shoving the rest of my clothing in my footlocker, knowing I'd have time to organize it later. I knew several Majors from Lejeune who were up here, including Major Odair. Ten weeks away from Daniel… such is the life of a Marine.

The door slams and it's easy to tell the Marines from the civilians. We're all at the foot of our bunks immediately, standing at attention. "All Candidates should be at the foot of their bunks by the time I count to three!" Our sergeant's voice echoes through the hall, sharp and demanding. Bunks rattle, footlockers slam and soon enough, the entire hall between bunks is full of camouflage clad candidates. "When I address you, you will respond by either calling me ma'am or Sergeant Atala," she barks as I look down the lane. Atala is a tall, muscular African-American woman with stern eyes. "I am not your friend. I am not your enemy. I am your life line!"

The only noise in the barracks, besides nervous breathing, is the boots of our Sergeant. She catches me studying her rather than standing at attention and makes a beeline for my bunk.

"Candidate, what is your name?" she demands. She's right in front of me, inches from my face.

"Candidate Mellark, ma'am!" I link my index finger in my watch behind my back, trying to keep from fidgeting.

"You seem pretty keen on checking me out. Do you think look nice?"

I try not to laugh, not this again…

"Ma'am, there is nothing better looking than a Marine in a perfectly worn uniform!" Her face softens only slightly at my words.

"Smart girl…" she says, walking down the lane. Two more steps and she's on poor Bonnie, the innocent looking strawberry blonde who's bun is half falling out, "Candidate!" she hollers.

"Y-yes, m-m-ma'am!" Bonnie responds nervously.

"There are three core values to the United States Marine Corps, what are they?"

_Honor, courage, commitment…_ I try to send telepathically, but she just stammers as Atala gets closer to her face.

"Anyone? Do any of you worthless candidates know anything?"

You could hear the wind through the barracks. "Permission to speak, Sergeant Atala!" my voice echoes through the hall.

"Permission granted, Mellark."

"There are three core values of the United States Marine Corps. They are honor, courage, and commitment!"

"Commit it to memory, ladies!" Atala instructs. Before finishing her inspection, she picks on several other people, but I don't volunteer to help them. I already have one other person's weight on my back.

I quickly look to Bonnie, who reminds me of Prim. I know now that I'll be doing whatever it takes to make sure she passes or at least survives.

Sergeant Atala reaches the end of the long room and booms at us, "Be at chow in fifteen, at ease!" There's a collective sigh when the door slams shut behind her.

"Do they always get in your face and yell at you like that?" Bonnie asks, looking up at me.

"That was nothing. Get used to being screamed at directly in the face…" I caution as she bites her lip nervously. "I'll help you study if you want. They're going to come through periodically and quiz you." I help her fix her bun. "Every second is a test here, Bonnie."

She just nods in reply. "Am I going to need my jacket at chow?"

On my first day of Basic, all of the Sergeants acted chummy for the first ten minutes, then we were being yelled at to run. "You should be dressed like me. That way if they make us run, you'll warm up." Her eyes go wide. Did she even _know_ where she was heading when she signed up?

Atala's eyes were on us as we ate dinner, every movement observed. Today and tomorrow, they'd make us afraid in order to weed out the weaklings. How they all kept their voices was beyond me.

"Everyone up! Get up, get up! Head to the doors!"

"Called it…" I grumble, taking one last gulp of my water.

"Move it! Look next to you!" someone shouts. "Your hesitation just killed that person!" I know that voice…Major Odair.

The officers wait until every single candidate is outside before yelling at us to hustle back inside. This happens four more times.

* * *

_February 2005_

During the first ten months of my marriage, I had put on about fifteen pounds of extra 'not sweating my ass off in Iraq' weight. After three weeks of OCS, it was gone. Every day consists of running, practicing hand to hand combat, more running, and studying. Once our feet are blistered and all we want is a hot shower, we run even more. Every second Sergeant Atala quizzes us, using it an opportunity to weed someone else out. I'm actually shocked that after three weeks, only four women are sent home.

"Ladies!" Atala shouts. "Welcome to the 'O' Course! By the end of your ten weeks here, you will be able to run this in two minutes or you will not pass. If you take too long, I will send you home, because I'm an impatient woman!"

In Iraq, our course for PT was more focused on climbing. The OCS 'O' Course, however, was a series of horizontal logs about three feet off the ground spaced about twenty feet from one another. There is one bar obstacle you had to swing yourself over, followed by a series of tight hurdles. During Basic, I got chewed out for running on top of them. Next comes a ten foot climb, followed by even more hurdles. My personal favorite came after the billionth log - a twenty foot decline of horizontal bars you had to worm your arms and legs around without flying, followed by even _more_ hurdles. I did well with this obstacle due to all of the time I spent on monkey bars as a kid. It was basically the same thing, going downhill and butt first. Finally, my least favorite part, the two horizontal bars about six feet off the ground that you had to pull yourself between and the rope climb.

The rope failed more people than anything else.

"At the rope, use the inside of your foot. Push them together and try to stand. It's easier than it looks," I whisper to Bonnie. She seems to be picking things up, even though she's still scared shitless of Atala. "But just the edge at the arch of your foot, not the inside," I explain as she nods.

"Mellark! Feeling chatty?"

"No ma'am!"

"Get up here, Chatty, you and Cashmere can show them how it's done," she orders. Of course, we're the only two in this whole company who have run this…

"May the best woman win?" Cashmere smiles, her bleached white teeth shining in the February sun.

"See you at the rope, I'll be the one at the top!" I challenge back. The whistle blows and we're off. The men had already been through the course; all of the ice from the morning is gone, leaving the logs a little damp. I flip myself over the bar just a second before Cashmere. I know the only way to beat her will probably get me chewed out, or noticed. A good officer can adapt to overcome any situation.

I get to the point where the log hurdles are barely five feet apart. Using the one skill I had learned throughout my life, I push myself on one to hop across the six or so logs and get a good second lead on my foe. The high bars are cold against my bare hands and feel even worse through my pants. I can't get myself over them fast enough.

_Pinch the rope with your feet and try to stand_. _Oh god, I still hate the rope…_ I slip twice, but my muscles remember how to do this quickly. I ring the bell at the top and slide down. A few seconds later, I hear the other bell ring.

"Shit, I'm out of shape…" Cashmere grumbles, patting my back. "When did you think to jump the logs?"

"Basic, second week," I tell her as we head back to the company, both of us just barely in passing range. "Sergeant Anderson got in my face about how a good Marine listens to orders and sticks to tradition."

Cashmere tilts her head back and chuckles, and the sound is almost liberating. Three weeks and all I could do is dive into training. Sometimes I forget I'm human.

After warming up, I finally have some free time to call home. Cell phones are not allowed, as well as alcohol and fraternization of any type.

The only way to call home is to use the personal phones located near the chow hall where everyone can overhear your conversation. After three rings, Peeta finally picks up. "Remember how two weeks before I left, I said I was getting fat?" I ask.

"All gone?" he says. The smirk in his voice is evident, and I can see it in my mind…

"And then some… I'm afraid to weigh myself, though my six pack is almost back…" I rub my hand along my stomach.

"I can't wait to run my tongue over it…" he purrs. I blush and look away from the man using the phone next to me.

"Behave yourself…" I scold. "How are my babies?"

"Phoenix had Buttercup pinned to the ground when I came home, so she spent most of the night in the laundry room. Amal keeps looking around the house for you…"

"You shouldn't have locked the dog up, you should give her a damn reward!" I exclaim, running my hands through my loose hair. "But I have to go… I love you, baby… It was good to hear your voice." I sigh.

"Yours too, and I love you. Make lots of friends…" he teases. I huff and hang up the phone.

"Hi, Mellark," Bonnie says. She shouldn't be here, but rather in the barracks studying. For some reason, she looks uncomfortable.

"What's wrong, Bonnie?"

"Just heading to medical."

"Something broken?" I ask. Women flock to medical as a type of 'Get out of PT' pass. Not Bonnie, though, I refuse to allow it.

_Why do I even care?_

"No, just really sore…" she says. I grab her elbow, "Wait, where are we going?"

"Back to Foxtrot. You're not going to medical unless you're vomiting, bleeding or have a break somewhere…" I had to make her strong. "Sit," I command. She flops down on my bed and I take off her boots. I roll her ankles for her to alleviate some of the stress. She whimpers some, as her body is not used to being abused like this.

"Bonnie, why are you here?" I ask finally, the question tired of being on the tip of my tongue.

"I want to give back. I just finished pre-law and figured this would be the best way to give back…" she sighs. I wasn't expecting an honorable reason. Maybe there was hope for her yet?

"It gets easier, your body adapts. During my first few weeks at Basic, I thought I was going to die. I had the worst drill instructor," I smile a little. "Trust me, Atala's nothing compared to her."

"Why are you so nice to me?" Bonnie asks, climbing to get to her footlocker. "You saved my ass on the first day, you're teaching me so much… Why?"

"You remind me of my sister," I tell her, and pull out one of our Corps history books. "Now, I want to try something. It'll help you a lot, but you can't freak out or hit me… okay?"

I'm determined to get Bonnie over her fear of being chewed out whether she likes it or not. "Okay… " she says meekly. "I'll try."

"Stand up!" My voice goes cold, but she doesn't move. "Grunt, I told you to stand up!"

She jumps up and shouts, "Ma'am!"

"Good, now… Rifleman's creed!" I bark as she flinches. "Do you think I asked you because I like to hear my own voice, grunt? Spineless little thing! And you think you have what it takes to be one of the elite? To be a Marine?"

"I do, ma'am!" She looks forward again and I believe her words, especially after she recites the creed without a flaw.

"Good, I think I can make something of you yet…" I drill her until my voice is hoarse and we've run out of things to work on.

The next morning, her one pant leg is not tucked in. Even though Atala chews her out for a good five minutes, Candidate Abigail Bonnie doesn't flinch.


	31. The Quigley

**Welcome back! **

**As always you can find me off at tumbrl and AO3 under the name Falafel_Waffel, and thank you Chelzie for being awesome as always!**

**Also... Remember, she's at OCS, no fraternization (AKA Peeta) I'm sorry if you're mad. I'm writing a story about a Marine and her life, not about snogging. I have _Beast and His Belle_ for that.**

* * *

Candidates are given weekends off for 'rest'. I juggle my time between phone calls with my family, studying and being tormented by Abernathy, who was here for some mystery reason, and Odair, who is in charge of Charlie Company.

"I swear, I'm going to strangle one of my guys…" Finnick mutters. Just because we're on rest doesn't mean that we're not being watched. "Titus, man… He might bite someone's arm off if given the chance…"

Abernathy snorts, "The ladies sync up yet?" I roll my eyes at him and kick at a pile of slush on the ground. It was warming up slowly, from the low thirties to about forty. The once frozen swamp has become a frigid free flowing waterway that we would be traversing on Monday morning. They always kick our asses on Monday.

I chug my Gatorade, as winter was a good time to get dehydrated. When you're hot you think to drink, but don't notice how much water you're losing when you're cold.

"Shut up… That's just a myth."

"They don't call them the tuna tents for nothing… just wait," Odair chuckles. I jump into the pile of slush, spraying the grey mess into cleaner snow.

Abernathy gags, "Second week of every month, go to talk to the female Staff Sergeant? Get your head ripped off, then the smell hits you…"

"You guys are the worst…" I mumble. We walk farther from the complex, closer to the line of trees marking the start of the swamp. There are a few easy ways to get noticed at any form of training - actually have some skill, train after hours, or be completely out of control. It takes a few weeks for the pack to find its place and for the candidates to let go of who they were and become what they can be, whether it be one of the elite or an embarrassment.

"People are starting to notice you, sweetheart, unfortunately not just the officers," Abernathy says.

"Alpha, Bravo, and Delta rated you a nine out of ten," Odair confirms.

I chuckle a little, "Really? I only earned a four in Basic, though I was kind of a bitch and really lanky."

"What's changed from then and now?" Finnick teases as I give him a playful shove.

My boots sink a little in the mud, marking where the grass beaten down by hundreds of boots daily meets the currently untouched swamp. "We're running this Monday, aren't we?"

"All damned day…" Major Odair grins, patting my back.

They call it The Quigley. It is the make or break OCS exercise, about two miles of pure hell. In the summer, you would be assaulted by mosquitos and the odd snake; in winter, the once frozen water will most likely knock the wind straight from your lungs.

I exhale loudly, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Any advice?" I ask, glancing down at the swamp's murky brown water. The only obstacle I can see are the sort tubes only half filled with water at this end, but they exit about a foot under. A grown man takes up almost the entire tube, so Foxtrot should slip through with ease.

"Yeah," Abernathy snorts, "Stay alive."

I just roll my eyes and turn on my heels, heading back to my barracks.

"How about… tuck your nuts?" Odair yells back. I pull one hand from my pocket to give him the middle finger.

"She really is quite the lady, good sir," I hear Finnick laugh.

"Quite…"

"And you didn't even tell her what Charlie gave her…"

* * *

At 0500, the lights flick on. "Everyone up! Let's go! Let's go! We're at war, ladies! Get the fuck up! Fifteen minutes, I want you all ready to go! It's going to be forty five degrees today! Perfect for a swim."

Sergeant Atala has to be some kind of wicked sadist.

The sun isn't even up and here we are, standing in front of the swamp. "This is a mile course, ladies. Start with the horizontal bars, then you're going to throw yourselves into the swamp. The course is clearly marked, so I shouldn't have to explain much. Just remember at the barbed wire, don't poke your head up. You wouldn't want to die here at training."

_Cheerful._

I'm at the back of the line just ahead of Bonnie, who is terrifyingly quick on the monkey bars. My feet hit the mud and she's already on my heels. "Let's hustle, Mellark!" she teases as we slosh through the icy cold water.

"Ready for a swim?" I ask. I watch the woman ahead of me clutch her rifle to her chest and back down into the water. One breath to psych yourself up, a second to attempt to go but to chicken out, and on the third, she's gone.

When I was twelve, I fell through the ice near my grandmother's house. Back then, I was barely a twig. But even now, covered in a thick layer of muscle, it's still just as miserable. Muddy water invades my mouth and nose as I kick through, my boot slipping on the muddy cement tube before I surface.

"Let's hustle, ladies! Come on pick up those knees!" Atala shouts.

Another long trek through deep water and my teeth are chattering. _I miss my layer of fat…_

A high wall of boards awaits us next. It would be easy if it wasn't for the mud caking my hands and the boards. Getting up is easy enough, but on the way down I fall right into the mud, soaking myself. Twenty feet in front of me sits a pool of shallow brown water with a barbed wire grid. I wasn't going to avoid it anymore. I couldn't even tell I was wearing camo anymore, as the deep browns and greens are now covered by the solid brown clay we're trekking through.

Just like the many women ahead of me, I dive in head down, the frigid water lapping at my chin. My boots dig in to the muck while my elbows try to lift me from the water as I push forward. I tilt my gun barrel up, trying to keep the water from flowing into it. I know it's not a real rifle, but it's still good practice.

The muck gets shallower and the wire closer to my face, forcing me to roll on my back. I want to scream as the wire bites my arm. _How could I be so careless?_ I don't dwell on it, though. I keep going forward, forcing my legs to push me free from the wire.

After that obstacle, it's only a one hundred yard trek through neck deep water, guns over our heads, all the while being told our grandmothers could do better.

To be honest, I'm sure Sae could do better on a good day.

The hot water of the showers runs brown and red when Atala lets us go until breakfast. Someone had cut open her forehead and didn't realize it until about five minutes into our shower. My arm wasn't bad, just a shallow and annoying cut. The blood sent two girls into screaming fits, which was rather comical. Oh, were they in for a surprise.

We start a new routine. Breakfast, get chewed out, obstacle course, chewed out some more, Quigley, shower, class, lunch, more class, combat training, then finally running until we're basically dead while getting chewed out.

* * *

_March 2005_

Nine in ten female Marines will experience some sort of unwanted sexual contact. At least that's what a newsletter I got a few weeks prior to OCS told me. I was the lucky one, I guess, at least so far. That being said, it's not guaranteed that ninety percent of female marines will be raped. That number actually drops from nine to three of ten.

I'm walking to the phones to call Peeta before lights out when I hear, "No! Get away!" I freeze and listen for where the noise is coming from. I close my eyes, letting what Prim had called my 'hunter senses' take over. "No! Please! Help!" the female voice pleads.

Humans are born with two very important survival instincts, fight and flight. I choose to ignore one of them and run straight to the call for help. A male candidate is pressing one of the females up against the wall. He has one hand covering her mouth, the other down her sweats.

"Get off her!" I hiss, taking fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him to the ground. I recognize this man, he's one of Finnick's.

"What do you think you're doing, Titus?" I put my boot on his neck, forcing his head to the side. "Tell the lady you're sorry!"

"I was just having a little fun. You can't tell me what to do, you stupid dyke… we're the same," he snarls. I take my boot away and haul him to his feet, grabbing his wrist and putting him in an arm bar. The woman runs back to Foxtrot, most likely to never speak of this again.

Of the ninety percent of female Marines assaulted, only a handful will ever report it.

I twist his wrist like the throttle of a motorcycle. "No, we're not," I growl back. With one fist of his shirt, I bend him over to take him back to Charlie, hopefully to Finnick. "You're a pig, worthless scum, I'm a Marine."

I kick the door open to the Charlie Barracks and nearly slam into the one person I was looking for. "Candidate Mellark, what are you doing?" Odair asks, not even trying to hide his surprise.

"Returning this to you. It seems your candidate here thinks it's appropriate to shove his hands down his fellow candidate's pants, even after the lady asked him to stop."

Finnick's bright green eyes go cold in a matter of seconds, "What…?" I've never seen Finnick go all drill instructor before. It's actually terrifying.

He cracks Titus on the back of the head. "We are honorable men, Titus! Honorable men don't force themselves on women!" Titus says nothing as Finnick continues. "When you are in the same room as a woman, you keep your damn head down from now on! If I even so much as _think_ you're looking at any of the women here, your ass will be out! Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir…" he mumbles.

"I didn't hear you!"

"Yes, Major Odair, sir!"

"Now, to your bunk!" Titus shoots me one last hateful look before stomping away.

"Katniss…" Finnick sighs, pulling me into the cold March air, "I'm sorry, that shouldn't have happened… I should have watched him better. Are you okay?" he asks, looking so sad.

My eyes widen in response. "It wasn't me! It was a girl from my company."

His eyes narrow, "Then why isn't _she_ here?"

I cross my arms over my chest, the wind blowing straight through my sweats. "Finnick…" I sigh, "You know how these things are…" It's the 'she asked for it' or the 'she's lying' mentality. If there's one thing I hated about the Marines, it was our blind eye to things like this. "Anyways… I should probably call my husband, or go to bed…. Probably bed."

"I can call your husband, I'm sure I can make my voice sound all high and whiny," he teases, clearing his throat, "Oh Peeta, I love you so much!" as he mimics my voice terribly.

"God dammit, Odair… I'm going to sleep. Go bat your eyelashes at your girlfriend…"

The barracks are a buzz when I come back, the room silencing as I enter and stroll to my bed. I kick off my sneakers and get under the covers as the woman from earlier rushes to my side and pulls me into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers before running away. The woman and I never speak again.

* * *

At the four week mark, something happens at OCS. We are no longer contractually required to stay, so a Candidate can elect to leave at any time. Rumor has it that a man quit halfway through the Quigley, which I could see happening. You could give one hundred and ten percent and still fail at that one.

In these first twenty eight days, I had become sore in places I never knew imaginable, watched grown men collapse from hypothermia, and learned six different ways to get my ass handed to me in hand to hand combat with women who were civilians less than thirty days ago.

Bonnie and I had grown close. I was her lifeline and she was mine, since calling home was limited and Peeta was hundreds of miles away. "Here…" I whisper. Tucked away in my footlocker, pinned between a pile of paperwork and my spare boots, I found a picture from the Birthday Ball.

Bonnie had been asking about Peeta for weeks. Since I started sleeping away from him, the nightmares he had kept at bay began pushing through again. My screaming had woken up the whole room two nights ago. The majority of the girls, the softer ones who never had those moments in Basic being eighteen, having your identity stripped from you while the ground beneath your feet is ripped out from below, whispered about me going crazy from the pressure. Cashmere, on the other hand, understood completely.

"_Shut up, you whiny bitches, that's the face of war. Deal with it!" she grumbled. "And go the fuck back to sleep!"_

I point to the picture, "The blonde is my husband, the next two are the Hawthornes. The man was my best friend growing up, and the woman is his now wife. They're over in Afghanistan right now," I pause, "And that's-"

"Holy crap… Major Odair?" she cries as I nod. "But he was in your face yelling the other day!"

I nod again. "We were in Iraq together. We're different people when we're in uniform. Plus, here he's my superior and impressing him and all the rest of them is our key to success. "

She runs her fingers along the medals at my chest, "Wow… is that a Purple Heart?" I nod and pull up my sleeve.

"Took a stray bullet here," I explain, pointing to the jagged scar on my arm. "It was from a friendly," I cringe, trying to push the memory away. "Then…" I untie my sweats and let her examine the long scar on my leg. "He threw a grenade and trapped me under this really rickety building." Her jaw drops in response. "Yeah… It's a long story," I smile a little thinking of those hours trapped with Peeta. Who knows where we would be if it wasn't for that? Would I still be teasing him about the girl back home he had a thing for? Would either of us have ended the childish game of chicken we were playing?

"Peeta was… I think he had just earned Sergeant then, came to rescue me after back up arrived," I hear my voice crack, "A little girl was killed and the locals weren't too happy about it…" Bonnie just nods. "Well, if you go over to the Middle East, you'll figure out really quick what a dust storm is. Then imagine being in one hundred and twenty degree heat, trapped in a building during a dust storm while some pretty pissed off Shiites look for prisoners…"

"Did you know you would marry him then?" she asks.

I smile and laugh a little. "No, I still wonder how we got here most days," I sigh, folding the picture back up and tucking it away. "Now… name the ranks in order from lowest to highest."

* * *

Though we're the elite warriors, the crazy ones who run to the sound of gunfire, very little of our training is actually combat… but when we do…

"You will bring your hands down as if chopping into their shoulders, grab onto the shirt and bring them off their center of gravity," Finnick instructs. We're training with the men today. Every single candidate is out on the once green but now muddy field, our boots beating the grass into submission. With the season not allowing for regrowth, we now stood in a muddy mess. "Then bring your knee up. For this exercise, only three strikes until you take them down. In a real life situation, you do not stop! A Marine never stops his or her attack until the goal is met!" Odair shouts.

Take down… also known as face in the mud.

This tactic had stuck with me. I smirk a little, remembering when I put it to use in DC over a year ago. "Something funny, Candidate Mellark!" Finnick was on me instantly.

"Sir, Candidate was remembering a practical use for the current exercise, sir!"

"And what would that be?"

"Rape defense, sir!"

It takes three swaps for my partner to actually hit me with force, though I'm practically knocking the wind out of her through the thick pad we're trading between each other. "Jesus, go easy on me, kid…" she grumbles.

"Easy? Go easy on you? Next time I'm in Iraq, I'll ask the people shooting at me to go easy on me…" I snap, bringing my hands down on her collar bones, grabbing her shirt and bring my knee up three times. I take a half a step back and bring her to the ground. "This isn't summer camp," I grumble with my knee between her shoulder blades.


	32. A Blissful Goodbye

First and foremost, let me apologize for not having a chapter for you. I'll be the first to admit the recent deletions of Synchronicity, Two Wrongs, and Strung Up in the Air have left me completely discouraged. Whenever I try to write I can't help but think 'what if this gets my fic deleted'. Instead of waiting for the end I'm going to be proactive.

I've made the decision to leave behind. This will most likely be my last update on this website. At first I was planning on editing my fics to make them adhere to the guidelines, but honestly I see nothing wrong in what I have written, but more importantly I won't give in to mindless censorship.

I will still be updating Semper Fidelis and Beast and His Belle on tumblr and AO3.

Tumblr: falafelwaffel (ledot) tumblr (ledot) com

AO3: : / / archiveofourown (ledot) org / users / Falafel_Waffel

I hate that it's come to this. I've been browsing fanfiction since I was in middle school, I've written for several fandoms under several pennames and loved every minute of it. Writing is one of my favorite hobbies and I love that I can share my ideas with so many of you, and I still will but not here.

Because both sites don't have email updates (The only thing going for fanfiction right now), the epicmazing Chelzie has set me up email lists!

Here are the links for people to sign up to receive updates:

Semper Fidelis: : / / eepurl (ledo) com / m58Ir

Beast & His Belle: : / / eepurl (ledot) com / m59Pz

If they want updates on both stories, then they need to sign up for both lists.

I'm also willing to accommodate anyone who is unwilling to follow me elsewhere, though not by censoring my stories.

I will be leaving this warning up for a day or so, and my stories will remain here until takes them down.

I hope to see you on Tumblr or AO3, but until then, I want to thank you all for being so amazing. I love your reviews, all your favorites and alerts. I've been introduced to so many new fics by them because I try and check out everyone who reviews and alert/ favorites me though I can't always message because most of my ff management is done on my phone and that gets waaaay complicated.

Again, thank you for being amazing!

Falafel Waffel

(and the many other writers on ff doing the same thing) 3


End file.
